The Patronus
by R4zzled4zzle
Summary: After being evicted from Slughorn's party, Draco accepts Snape's offer of help. Dumbledore arranges for Draco to take defense lessons from Harry Potter. Draco struggles to produce a patronus - his memories just aren't happy enough. Until he makes new ones, happier ones with the witch who occupies his every thought.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh come on Malfoy, you just need to think of a happy thought!" Harry said, getting increasingly frustrated with his student.

"I'm trying, you fuckwit." Draco replied, gritting his teeth. "But the more you interrupt, the harder it is to keep my memory in mind with your ugly mug appearing in my mind." He hadn't managed to get so much as a wisp of a patronus despite spending two hours in the Room of Requirement with Potter.

"I don't see how my face could do anything but improve your memories with Crabbe. Or is it Goyle?" Harry smirked. "Maybe the thought you are holding in your mind just isn't strong enough. What memory are you thinking of?"

"That's private, Potter!" Draco absolutely could not tell Harry what he was remembering, particularly as it happened to relate to a certain bushy-haired, once buck-toothed witch that Potter was rather fond of. "Though maybe I ought to use the memory of breaking your nose and leaving you on the train our first day back." Draco gave his wand a quick flick and brought one of the large overstuffed cushions flying into Harry's legs, knocking him over onto the floor.

"Now this is a view I remember. Its all coming back to me now," Draco said with a satisfied look.

Harry frowned, his green eyes smaller behind the rims of his glasses. He absentmindedly rubbed his nose where Malfoy had stamped on it. _Thank Godric Tonks found him before the train returned to London_. If Harry were honest with himself, his pride had taken more a kick than his face. He got wearily to his feet.

"Listen Malfoy, I'm just trying to help. If you'd li-"

"Ok, ok Saint Potter! I get it! You are sacrificing your precious time with your ginger boyfriend when you could be polishing each other's broomsticks!"

Harry sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose tightly trying desperately to keep his temper in check. It was getting harder and harder to do. He breathed in, thinking of the progress his friends in Dumbledore's Army made last year. If Neville could do it, Malfoy could too. As much as Harry hated to admit it, Malfoy was a very capable wizard.

"Right we're going to try it again. Remember, ' _expecto patronum_ '."

Draco took a deep breath and focused on the memory. Her curly brown hair bouncing as she walked towards him, her faint smile as she turned to call back to another Gryffindor, the way she walked right back into his arms and stumbled. Draco could still remember the faint smell of caramel and something he couldn't quite name but was so completely Hermione. The feeling of her small and soft hands clutching at his sleeves in surprise. The shock in her gold flecked eyes as she turned to see who had caught her.

"Expecto patronum!"

A silvery wisp shot out of his wand and disappeared. Harry gasped, "Excellent! We're finally getting somewhere."

"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long," drawled Draco, sneering at Harry. "We can't all be the Chosen One. Besides, that was barely more than a hippogriff's fart."

"Still, it's something we can work with." Harry insisted.

 _Ugh, Gryffindors and their endless positivity._

"Shall we call it a night then? It's getting close to curfew and we don't want people to get suspicious about where you've been," said Harry, looking at the clock on the wall.

"Indeed," said Draco. "Pansy is annoyingly observant and has started asking about where I've been. I can't very well say that I've been studying either, my grades have been abysmal this year."

"Aren't you getting all your work done?" Harry asked, curiously. Malfoy had always gotten _Outstanding_ or _Exceeds Expectations_ in every single piece of work, seemingly with very little effort.

"It's a bit hard to do with all my evenings taken up with Occlumency with Snape, and this Defence nonsense with you! I'm not even playing Quidditch anymore" Draco said bitterly, his signature sneer forming on his face. "I don't even know why I need all of this! My aunt already taught me Occlumency and all I've been able to do with you is less substantial than what Goyle can produce after a few too many Brussel sprouts!" His fists were balled up by his sides, his expression arranged carefully. It took a great deal of effort to hide the resentment and bitterness from showing.

"Well, could you tell Snape that you need the time for your studies? Could he help you catch up at all?"

"Have you not met our professor, Potter? Does he seem the type to tutor anyone of his students?"

"But you're his godson, and obviously his favourite –"

"It's not happening, Potter. I would need someone else to do it. And I doubt that any of our professors would bother with me," Draco muttered. He was increasingly resentful with the world and the hand he had been dealt.

"We'll figure it out, mate." Harry reached out to pat Draco on the shoulder, momentarily forgetting himself.

Draco's eyes widened and he flinched away from Harry's hand. His face twisted in disgust. "I don't need your pity and I am most certainly not your _mate_. I am sick and tired of all this!"

With that, Draco hastily grabbed his bag and left the Room of Requirement, slamming the door behind him.  
With a huff, Harry looked around the room and collected his cloak and the map from his bag. He saw something under the table and bent to pick it up. It was some parchment that had fluttered out of Draco's bag. Harry unrolled it and saw it was a Potions homework that they had handed in on the Draught of Living Death before the Christmas holidays. Professor Slughorn had already marked it with a large red 'Poor' at the top.

There was no way Draco would accept any help with his studies from Harry – particularly as Harry rarely got better grades than he did, D.A.D.A. being the obvious exception. What Malfoy needed was someone whose academic ability was recognised, someone discreet and above all patient.

Harry suddenly grinned widely. _I've got the perfect person,_ he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione was just proofreading her Ancient Runes homework in the library, quill in hand and ink smudged on her fingers and her right ear. She had been spending even more time lately. Harry was often with Dumbledore or doing some mystery tasks, and Ron…

… Ron was busy sucking face with Lavender. Hermione had initially been heartbroken. And Ron was either too stupid or not interested enough to notice. Even after sending those charmed birds at him with a nifty Oppugno jinx. But sometime after the cruel way he had been treating her, particularly that nasty incident in Transfiguration on their last day before the Christmas holidays Hermione stopped caring. She had even taken Cormac McLaggen to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party in an effort to annoy Ron, and to move on. That was not an experience she was ever going to repeat. No matter how many times Cormac bothered her about the next Hogsmead trip.

She was so focused, she did not notice that the library had started emptying and Madam Pince was turning down the lamps. She also didn't notice Harry dashing over to her wearing a shit-eating grin.

"I've had the most amazing idea!"

Hermione shrieked and flailed her arms about leaving a long line of ink all the way up her nearly foot-long essay.

"Dammit Harry! Professor Babbling won't accept this now. I have to rewrite the entire thing. I've spent my entire evening doing this!" Hermione tried fruitlessly to vanish the stains but not the essay. All she managed was to fade all the ink to a pale grey.

"So, Mione. How would you feel about helping someone?" Harry asked.

"Why can't you help them? I'm trying to pass my N.E.W.T.s here, Harry."

"Well this is school stuff. You know you are so much smarter than anyone else in our year. The _whole school_ even! I can barely do half the stuff you can, let alone explain it to someone else."

"Well," Hermione blushed and smiled a little, mollified. "I guess I would be willing. What year is this person in?"

"Sixth year, like us."

Hermione huffed, "Harry, if Neville needs help he can just ask me! There is no need to beat around the bush!"

"It's not a Gryffindor," Harry said carefully.

"A Hufflepuff then? Is it Justin?" she asked curiously.

"Nope." Harry's grin started falling a little at Hermione's almost panicked look.

"Well it won't be a Ravenclaw so that leaves," she croaked "Slytherin". Her eyes widened. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"Nope. Remember how I told you Dumbledore had some other things for me to do? As well as my lessons on Riddle?" Hermione nodded.

"I've been helping a student who is in danger from Voldemort," Harry explained. "It's been kept quiet because he can't be seen in league with me."

"Why can't Dumbledore help him then?" Hermione asked.

"Because he can't be seen with him either. It's kind of complicated actually. But-"

"Who is it Harry?" Hermione's tone was stern. Harry looked down at his hand clasped in front of him, his glasses slipping ever so slightly further down his nose.

"It's Malfoy, Hermione. I've been helping Malfoy," Harry admitted.

"Malfoy!" Hermione squeaked and started standing. Harry's hand shot out and kept her down.

"Shh! No one can know!" Harry kept his grip on her sleeve, his eyes urgently trying to communicate how crucial discretion was. "I didn't get the chance to tell you anything about it. I'm not technically supposed to tell you at all. When Snape took Draco back to the dungeons for crashing the party, I followed them under my cloak."

Hermione gave a frustrated sigh and held up her hand to stop Harry from speaking. " _Please_ tell me you are not still obsessed with Malfoy and your Death Eater theory, Harry. It's nonsense."

"But it isn't! He _is_ a Death Eater!"

"Harry you must stop this nonsense. You can't possibly know for sure!"

"I do though. He's admitted it to Dumbledore. When I followed them, Snape had Malfoy in an empty classroom at the end of the corridor. He was staying things like 'You are suspected of having a hand in it' and stuff. And then Snape tried Legilimency on him but it didn't work," Harry stopped to take a breath. It was then that they both turned to see Madam Pince walking towards them, waving her arms in a shooing motion and hissing angrily at them.

"Get out! The library is now closed. You are here after curfew! Why didn't you listen before? Go!" Hermione quickly stuffed her books into her bag and then followed Harry out into the corridor and out onto the stairs.

"Harry Potter! So help me, you will tell me what in the Founders' names is going on!" Hermione said, grabbing Harry's arm and bringing him to a sudden stop.

Harry sighed in resignation and looked up and down the corridor to check for privacy. He quickly pulled out his map. "Alright, we're alone. Let's talk on our way back."

They started walking faster, checking the map at regular intervals.

Hermione asked, "Snape said that Malfoy was suspected in being involved in something. What do you think he was referring to?"

"The cursed necklace that Katie touched, Hermione. I was right! Malfoy was behind the attack. Voldemort has given him a task to do and Snape was trying to find out what the plan was. He offered help. Malfoy seemed seriously nervous about the whole thing and kept trying to blow him off and get away. But Snape then said that he'd made an Unbreakable Vow, whatever that is…"

"He did what!" Hermione gasped. "But that's really serious, Harry."

"What's an Unbreakable Vow then?"

"It's a vow you can't break, Harry."

"No kidding, Hermione. I had that worked out for myself already funnily enough!" Harry replied sarcastically. "What happens if you do break your Unbreakable Vow?"

"You die," she replied simply. "So then what happened?"

"Well, I thought he was going to keep denying it. He even accused Snape of trying to take his glory. That was when Snape dragged him off to Dumbledore's office. I don't really know what happened next, but I got an owl from Dumbledore the next day at the Burrow saying I had another job to do with bringing down Voldemort once I got back after Christmas."

"So why do I have to help him?" Hermione wondered.

"Because his grades have really fallen and he's been too busy with me and Snape to get any of his work done," said Harry. "He is covering up our sessions by telling his mates he's studying. But that excuse isn't really working." Harry pulled out the scroll of parchment he found in the Room of Requirement. "Have a look at this."

Hermione unrolled the parchment and started reading. _He has gorgeous handwriting_ , she thought. So elegant and precise! Once she started reading, her eyes widened in shock. They stopped outside the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Harry, this is complete rubbish! He's not said anything about the properties of the Sopophorous Bean juice and he said that you stir with a clockwise turn instead of anticlockwise."

"Erm, if you say so," Harry muttered having completely forgotten how to brew the potion.

Hermione bit her lower lip in thought. After a moment she said, "I'd like to think about it, please. I'm not sure about this yet."

"Ok Hermione, take as much time as you need." He turned to the portrait and gave the password, " _Abstinence_."

Much later that evening, Hermione lay awake in bed quite unable to sleep. It took her a long time to sort through all that Harry had told her and was grappling with the idea of spending extended time alone with Draco Malfoy, he of the bigoted views, foul language and haughty attitude.

 _He really is a terrible person, can I help him? Do I want to?_

But if Malfoy's Potions homework was anything to go by, he really did need somebody's help. His essay was worse than a lot of Ron's work. Hermione cringed inwardly as she thought of all the times she helped him. Now Ron definitely hadn't deserved it. But did she think that Malfoy was any more deserving?

 _No. He isn't more deserving. I'm not going to help him._

The next morning, Hermione did not find Harry in the common room. On her way to the Great Hall for breakfast, Hermione mulled over what Harry had told her and her decision not to help. She wondered how helping Malfoy would help bring down Voldemort, but she couldn't see how that was the case. Was Harry's theory about Malfoy being a Death Eater correct? If so, had he changed sides? Could he even be trusted? Hermione normally wasn't one to turn down an opportunity to help. Was she making a mistake?

As she reached the large doors to the hall, a group of first year Hufflepuffs charged passed her almost knocking her off her feet. She stumbled back and in the process trod on someone foot.

"Salazar's ballsack, Granger! Watch where you are going! Those feet of yours are enormous."

 _Speak of the Devil, and the devil shall appear._

"Malfoy, isn't being rude all the time rather tiring?" Hermione said mildly, turned to see Malfoy's signature smirk and he looked down his sharp nose.

"Oh no, Granger. It takes a lot more than that to get me tired." Malfoy's smirk became leering as he leaned closer to her. "I would _never_ tire of _you_."

Hermione could not help but lean back ever so slightly. He was too close for comfort. She could see each and every pale blonde eyelash around his grey eyes. He must have not slept very well last night, he had purplish shadows under his eyes that stood out against his almost translucent skin.

She sniffed, "Well if you intend to persist in rudeness, I'm not going to listen to you. Good day, Malfoy."

Hermione turned and walked to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Harry. She was so annoyed with Malfoy and with herself for even feeling the slightest bit guilty at refusing to tutor him.

"Morning Mione," Harry muttered with a mouth full of scrambled eggs and sausage.

"Good morning, Harry," she replied.

Parvati immediately leaned over to her and said, "So Hermione, how're things going with Cormac? Did you miss each other _very_ much over the holidays?"

"No, I didn't miss him at all Parvati. We aren't together anymore."

"Oh!" gasped Parvati. "Are you completely heartbroken?"

"Not at all. I couldn't care less. If you ask me, I think he fancies himself a bit too much. He has nothing but himself to talk about."

"But there is rather a lot to fancy, wouldn't you say?" Parvati looked over to where Cormac was sitting, hungrily. She had a contemplative look in her eyes as she turned back to Hermione. "Would you mind if I …?"

"By all means. Have at him!" Hermione waved her off with her knife as she paused in spreading butter over her croissant. At that point, she looked up towards the other end of the hall. She stiffened in her seat when she suddenly realised that Malfoy had been staring at her. He quickly averted his eyes back to his plate.

 _Why was he staring at me?_ She quickly wiped her face for any stray crumbs or smears of her favourite blackberry jam and surreptitiously checked her jumper for any stains. She was perfectly alright.

So what was Malfoy's deal? Hermione chewed her croissant slowly as she looked over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sat in the middle of the sixth year students, but as she watched, she realised he was barely talking to any of them. He hadn't eaten at all, he just pushed bits of food around on his plate. Now that she was looking more closely at him she could see he'd clearly lost weight. And if she really thought about it, he had seemed, impossibly, paler than usual. His eyes had been searching, seeming to communicate something different to his words. Hermione could only conclude that Draco Malfoy was not coping well with his situation, whatever it might be.

As breakfast finished and students broke off for their first lessons, Hermione walked to Harry's side.

"I'll do it. I'll help Malfoy."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback I've had so far. The HP fandom is truly the best. Please let me know how you like the story so far!**_  
 _ **Rxx**_

Harry walked absentmindedly up the stairs to the seventh floor. He had another session with Malfoy. He could hardly call it a lesson. Malfoy was clearly skilled at non-verbal spells, and knew many curses, jinxes and charms that Harry had never even heard of. It was the other stuff he needed, mostly how to protect against magical creatures. Malfoy had never paid much attention to Care of Magical Creatures, and during D.A.D.A. lessons Malfoy had always leaned towards cruel and sometimes inefficient ways of dealing with magical beings.

Malfoy had also thus far been unable to throw off the Imperius curse with any success at all, not that they had tried much. Malfoy still deeply mistrusted and despised Harry with every breath he took. Allowing Harry control of his body more than the one time was not going to happen.

Harry felt slightly overwhelmed with all that Dumbledore had told him and had asked him to do. He had spent many hours with Hermione trying to figure out what a horcrux was, and Slughorn had reacted very badly when he had asked him what they were.

"Don't you Gryffindors have any manners at all? It's uncivilised to keep people waiting," Malfoy sneered as Harry walked into the Room of Requirement five minutes late. The Room of Requirement was already set up for the evening's activities, with soft furnishings and thick soft carpet to cushion the inevitable falling bodies.

"Hello to you too, Malfoy," said Harry ignoring the taunt. "Seeing as you are completely incapable of happy thoughts, I thought we could try and throw off the Imperious curse again today."

"Absolutely not, Potter. I will not subject myself to the likes of you again!"

"That's the spirit Malfoy. That's exactly the attitude you should have. Imperio!" And with that, Harry silently commanded Malfoy to imitate a monkey, noises and all. Malfoy's face was blissfully blank of all thought and emotion. _Dammit Malfoy, you're not fighting it hard enough!_ Harry made him jump onto the back of the sofa and then swing single-handed from the chandelier while replicating the mating call of a Capuchin.

"Potter, you bastard! I'm going to kill you for this," said Malfoy, panting from exertion once Harry lifted the curse.

Harry sighed, "Malfoy, where does all this posturing and arrogance go when you're under the curse? I can't believe I'm saying this, but it is actually an asset when trying to fight the curse off. If you don't want to do what I'm commanding you to do, then don't!"

"It's not that simple, Potter. I can't just decide not to do something when under the curse!"

"I just found it really easy. The first time I was put under the curse two years ago, I was able to fight it a little but by the fourth time I was able to throw it off completely." Harry glanced slyly at Malfoy who was primly fixing his cuffs and collar. Merlin keep him from looking like anything but a statue! "I had it completely mastered within an hour. But I guess if you don't think you can do it..."/p

"Fuck you, Potter. Do it again."

"Ok but this time, I'll have you dancing ballet. I'll be able to use the memory of you doing a pirouette next time I need to conjure a _Patronus_."

"Alright, Chosen Git! Get on with it!"

" _Imperio_!"

Malfoy's face blanked again, but as Harry commanded him to lift his arms into position his expression flickered. He hesitated a little and his movements became stiffer. Harry made him leap into the air, but Malfoy did not raise his arms up in the graceful flutter that Harry had wanted. His face was now showing undercurrents of emotion, his eyes glinting with rage.

"Ok Malfoy, now for the grand finale! A gorgeous pirouette, if you please," Harry grinned widely. He concentrated on the move he wanted Malfoy to make, though it took more effort than it had before.

Malfoy lifted his arms woodenly and lifted a leg to do a graceful turn. He had only completed a half turn when Malfoy fell heavily to the ground.

"That's more like it! Nicely done," said Harry.

"If you think I'd let you humiliate me like that and get away with it..." Malfoy stood up and raised his wand, sending a curse towards Harry in a flash of red.

" _Protego_! What the fuck Malfoy?"

Malfoy sent another curse his way, this time a flash of purple. Harry deflected it with another _Protego_.

"What are you doing you idiot? I'm only trying to help!"

"Saint Potter here to rescue us all again!" Malfoy sent another purple curse his way. "Where would be without our precious Chosen One?"

"Really? You think I chose this crap?" said Harry ducking yet another curse, this time aimed at his head. "I never asked for any of this. We're all just doing what we can!"

Harry did not waste time with another protection charm the next time a hex was sent his way. He ducked and rolled out of the way before throwing a disarming charm at his opponent.

" _Expelliarmus_!"

Malfoy's wand came gliding over to Harry, who caught it with the ease of a Seeker.

"And that, Slytherin git, is why it doesn't matter how many fancy spells you can do or how many hexes you can cast non-verbally. If you don't have a wand, you have nothing. Expelliarmus is the only way to defeat an enemy."

Malfoy was fuming, hands balled into fists at his side. Harry didn't think he had ever seen him so angry.

"Fuck this! I need to go back to my dorms. Slughorn just gave us a two-foot essay to write on antidotes and Gulpalot's Third Fucking Lesion and all I'm doing is wasting time with you. Give me my bloody wand back!"

"Galopott's Third Law," corrected Harry surprising himself. "That reminds me! I may have sorted out your problem. Well, one of them as you seem to have many."

"Fuck you, Potter. What are you talking about?"

"I've found someone willing to help you with your studying."

"Potter I am not taking lessons from any of you Gryffindorks. You are all annoying as hell and none of you have been able to get better grades than me except for-" Malfoys eyes snapped up to Harry's. "No. You can't be serious?!"

"Hermione has very kindly offered to help you Malfoy. She's actually a really good teacher if you let-"

"She clearly is, Potter. We all know that you and the Weasel couldn't possibly have managed to survive, let alone pass your classes the last five years."

"Then what's the problem here, Malfoy?" Harry watched as Malfoy's face morphed into disgust, frustration, anger and something Harry couldn't quite identify. Hermione had better look out for this one.

"Nothing," he said, snatching his wand out of Harry's hand. "The fewer people who know about this the better. Understood?"

"You're not in a place to make any demands, Malfoy." Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Whatever! Now when am I seeing the insufferable swot?"

Malfoy made his way down to the dungeons to the common room entrance and muttered the password, " _Superior_ ".

"Draco, darling! Where have you been?" Pansy said, running over to him as he walked into the common room. "Why, you look awful! What's happened to you?"  
Draco looked down at himself. He had neglected to tidy himself up after the impromptu duel with Potter and had spent the entire walk down under the Lake thinking about Granger and what is was going to be like so close to her. He was also thinking of the feeling of being under the imperius curse. It wasn't the first time he had experienced it, but when his father had put him under to take the Dark Mark he didn't even think of fighting back. He knew that even the thought of resisting the curse or the Mark would have resulted in the death of his family. If he was as honest as those guileless Gryffindors, he would admit that he was actually grateful to his father for placing him under the curse. He would never have been able to feign gratitude and humility when the Dark Lord branded him as one of his lackeys. Draco had been absolutely terrified at taking the Mark and had wanted to do nothing but run as far away from the Manor as possible and never return.

That couldn't happen, he thought. There was no way his parents would still be alive if he had done that. He'll just have to suffer through and do what he can.

"Drakey, sweetheart. Talk to me!" Pansy whined. She snaked her arm around his waist and tried to bring him closer. He stood unyielding and wooden in her arms.

"Im fine, Pansy. I just need to get on with my work. Slughorn wants that stupid essay in a couple of days and I have written a single inch."  
Pansy pouted. "But you've been gone studying for the last couple of hours. We've hardly spent any time together at all lately."

"Whatever. Let go of me, Parkinson."

He pushed her off and turned to his room and fetched his bag. He found a quiet corner of the common room by the window into the lake and got his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ by Libatius Borage. He measured a fresh piece of parchment to the correct length and wrote the title, Antidotes, at the top of the page. His quill froze at then as his mind completely emptied of all information. He was able to recall the lesson easily. After all, Slugorn couldn't stop blustering about Potter's supposed nerve and new-found competence in Potions. Draco new something questionable was responsible for Potter's sudden ability to brew a simple solution./p  
Draco's gaze went to the window. He watched the swirling shadows and depths that hid creatures beyond the awareness of the other students in their primitive, draughty and cold towers. He almost pitied them. He gave an indulgent sigh and looked again at his text book.

" _Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components._ " What in Salazar's name does that mean? It made no sense to him whatsoever. He would see Granger tomorrow night when he would have instead seen Potter. He supposed he could ask he then. Draco loathed the thought of needed help from anyone, let alone from a swotty muggleborn know-it-all witch with horrible hair. He would not turn up empty handed though.

"Have to start somewhere," he muttered and started writing.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'd like to say a big big thank you for those who have followed this story and reviewed, especially mrshaloona. I hope you enjoy chapter 4!**

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Draco woke the next morning. He knew before he had even opened his eyes that he was not in his bed. He had fallen asleep at his desk before he'd written much at all. He carefully lifted his head up and opened his eyes. He was momentarily worried as he seemed to have lost his eyesight in his left eye; he quickly realised his homework had stuck to his face. He gently removed it from his cheek, sighing. He had written a pitiful amount.

It was early still, the sun's light barely filtering through the depths of the lake. Draco decided that if this was the day he would be spending time with her, he would need to be ready. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, trying to loosen the knots and cramps that had developed while he lay slumped over his desk. He noticed his shirt was as crumpled and wrinkled as a Flobberworm. His mother would have been horrified. Lady Malfoy would never have allowed her son's current appearance.

A shower then, a change of clothes and definitely breakfast.

He shoved his papers roughly into his bag and went to his dorm room to collect a fresh set of clothes. No spell could help the state that his uniform was in.

"Morning, Draco," said Theo, whose reflection stared back at him from the mirror. "You look gorgeous! Like you've had a restful sleep."

"Whatever, Nott," growled Draco. He went over to his bed and rifled through his drawers.

"Have you got sore shoulders from sleeping on a desk last night? Do you need a massage?"

"Ugh! Theo, must you make such jokes? You are hard to tolerate in the morning," Blaise said as he pulled back the curtains around his bed, dropped to the floor and started his daily set of push ups.

"Oh! Blaise, my Italian stallion! You know I can make it hard for you whenever you like."

"Get bent, Theo," said Blaise.

"Only if you'll do it for me, handsome," Theo winked at Draco coquettishly from the mirror and raised his arms to continue his routine preening.

Goyle stumbled from his bed almost tripping over his curtains, woken by the banter. He rubbed his eyes with his massive fists and gazed blearily at Draco. "What's Gulpalot?"

"What on earth are you talking about, Greg?" Blaise sighed.

"That, Gregory darling, is a very good question. It's when…"

"No. his face," said Goyle, pointing at Draco.

He had a quick look in the mirror and found that the ink had transferred to his face.

" _Scourgify!_ "

The writing disappeared but his skin was red as if rubbed raw, the irritation obvious against his pale complexion.  
A quick shower later, Draco felt refreshed and more prepared to take on the day. He walked to breakfast with his fellow Slytherins. As he walked into the Great Hall, he couldn't help but glance at the Gryffindor table where she normally sat. She was alone for now, Potter and Weasley hadn't made it down yet. Granger was idly spreading butter on her usual pastry – how did he even know what her usual even was? Why was he paying attention? – and she had a blissful little smile on her face, the sides of her mouth lifting ever so slightly. The soft winter sunlight streaming in through the windows and from the enchanted ceiling created a gold aura around her.

Typical, Draco thought rolling his eyes. Glowing with her self-righteous goodness.

"Hey mate, you're blocking the way," Blaise said, poking him in the back. "I can squeeze past, but Goyle and Crabbe are right behind me and they need the whole doorway to get through."

A low grunting noise issued from behind him. Draco hastily moved before anyone noticed who he was looking at. He had no idea how he was going to manage later on.

* * *

Hermione walked up to the seventh floor corridor a few minutes early to make sure the room was formed exactly as she wanted for her first evening with Malfoy. However, as she neared the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy she saw the door already there. She opened the door carefully and walked in. She looked in awe around the room. No matter how many times she came here, she was still astounded by the incredible nature of magic.

The walls were completely obscured by bookshelves, heavily laden with books on every topic imaginable. The floor was covered with a plush navy carpet. A large desk with two wooden chairs in the same dark wood as the bookshelves sat in the middle of the room.

"Glad to see that punctuality is appreciated by at least one Gryffindor," Malfoy drawled as he leaned against the desk looking at his fingernails. "Potter is always late."

Hermione ignored the dig at Gryffindors and Harry. It wouldn't do to get into an argument before they had even started. "Hello, Malfoy. Shall we get started?" She walked towards the desk giving the sneering boy a wide berth before settling in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. She got her quill and ink pot, and her spare parchment out onto the table.

Malfoy sat opposite her and leaned back so he was balancing on the back legs of his chair with his hands behind his head. "So where will we start, Professor Mudbl-"

"You can stop right there, Malfoy" Hermione glared at him. "If we are to spend much time together we can at least be civil to each other." She lifted her quill and pointed it menacingly at him. Even though there was a table between them, it seemed as though he couldn't but help take a step back. "I will not accept the use of that word at all, nor will I accept condescension from you."

"I bet you can't wait to tell all your little friends in that high tower of yours all about how a simple mudbl-"  
Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"- how a muggleborn from a humble background is helping a pureblood Slytherin. I bet that really tickles your fancy."

"Not at all, Malfoy. In fact, I don't think blood has anything to do with it. Besides, we all need help from time to time."

"Ugh, there's that self-righteous attitude again. Do you expect us to hold hands or something now?"

Hermione had had quite enough of his rudeness. "Only if you'd like to. Now, sit down and let's get to work! This vulgar behaviour is beneath someone of your less-than-humble background."

His mouth opened in shock. He leaned forward so all four chair legs rested on the ground once more. She had clearly not reacted the way he had expected.

Excellent, she thought.

"So where shall we start? I know you are taking Defence, Potions, Charms, Arithmancy and Transfiguration. What other N.E.W.T. subjects are you taking this year?"

"Astronomy."

"Well that's great! I can help you with almost all of them. Which would you like to work on today?"

Malfoy lifted his hands and inspected his nails again. He was clearly trying to seem casual about it, but Hermione thought she saw a flicker of some unknown emotion in his eyes.

This can't be easy for him, she thought. I'll need to remember that.

"I'm not sure Granger, what would you suggest?"

"Well how about Potions? Our homework is due in tomorrow. How did you manage with Antidotes?"

Malfoy pulled out his scroll of parchment. He hesitated briefly before handing it to her, his mouth tightening ever so slightly. She would not have noticed had she not been watching him closely. Hermione reached out to take it but as she did, her eyes fluttered up to lock with his. His eyes really were the most amazing colour; a shade or two lighter than a storm cloud with a darker ring around the outside. Flecks of granite and silver surrounded the bottomless black centres. They were utterly mesmerising.

"Granger, I know I am stunningly gorgeous but could we possibly get on with the work?" Malfoy smirked, his previous shyness completely forgotten.

Hermione blinked as if coming out of a trance. She fought to bring her focus away from his eyes, anywhere but his eyes. She looked and found her arm still raised to take the homework, now safely in her hand.

"Oh. Right."

His scroll was indeed measured to two-feet, but he had barely written a quarter of the required amount. She scanned his writing. She felt rather than saw him lean across the table to her. A medley of different emotions she had no wish to name swirled in her tummy.

"Malfoy, this is barely six inches. It's not nearly enough."

Without meaning to, she lifted her gaze to his eyes again and was once more captivated. A flicker of mischief passed across his face, as if he knew a secret or a joke which only he knew. He chuckled.

"You're staring again, Granger."

She exhaled sharply. She hadn't even noticed she was holding her breath.

"Now really! I was assured you are the smartest of the Golden Trio. Are you not able to help me? Do I need to find someone of superior intelligence?"

Hermione spluttered at his insult. She sat straighter in her chair and glowered at him. "To start, you seem to have confused our Charms homework on non-verbal and our Potions homework. You clearly weren't paying any attention when writing this. Most of this work is useless. You barely have two good inches of work here and most of that is what you've copied from the textbook."

Malfoy's mouth fell open, stopping him from interrupting with what she assumed was another useless comment.

"And further, you have Galpolott's theory written wrong. The antidote is equal to more than, not less than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate poisons.

You have to compensate for the fact that you have many different poisons working together in the same potion. Right, I know where to start now. Do you have your copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_?"

Malfoy retrieved his copy. It opened to the correct page on its own, and a long black line stretched across the writing.

"I might have fallen asleep at the banality which is this topic," he said. "This is not nearly as interesting as Alchemy."

"But Professor Slughorn said that preparing the antidotes was almost alchemical. See?" She pointed excitedly at the textbook.

"I do see. That's unexpected." Malfoy leaned forward again, but this time they were both so engrossed in the discovery of a shared interest she did not feel the same discomfort as earlier.

* * *

Draco was pleasantly surprised at the spirited debate that was sparked by Alchemy. Granger was predictably well read on the subject but had drawn her own conclusions from her reading. By highlighting the similarities of the antidote potion to alchemy he found he was more receptive to what she was saying. An hour passed in relative peace between the two adversaries and Draco thought that it was quite bearable, almost pleasant even. It was made even more satisfying every time Granger lost her train of thought and stared at him again.

"While arguing with you has been mightily entertaining Granger, I really must go. I have to rewrite my essay tonight and maintain my social relationships."

"Gracious, Malfoy! We couldn't possibly have you lose your status as Slytherin Prince, now could we?" Though sarcastic, her tone was more teasing than scathing and Draco found he rather liked being teased by the bushy haired witch.

He snorted. "Prince! A royal title suits me, I think."

"A royal title for a royal pain in the arse." Granger muttered and turned away with a flick of her curls. He knew she wasn't flirting. The witch had missed many of his sexually charge innuendos and was clearly innocent. It didn't stop the twitch in his trousers though as she bent to collect her things from the floor, her skirt lifting half way up smooth and shapely thighs.

"So when am I going to be lectured by you again?"

"How about the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes. Seven sharp?"

She lingered for a moment, seeming to struggle to find words. "If we are to spend so much time together, do you think it would be appropriate for us to use our first names to address each other?"

Draco mulled it over. Her name really was a mouthful, and she was a well-established rival. But he imagined his name falling from those pink lips. He supposed it wasn't a terrible idea.

"That would be acceptable I think," he said. She was looking at him expectantly. He nodded and said, "Hermione."

"Great. I'll see you the day after tomorrow then. Good night, Draco."

A shiver ran up his spine as she spoke his name. Granger walked to the door and Draco allowed her to walk in front of him as a show of manners. In reality, he wanted to see how her skirt would sway with the motion of her hips. Oh, Merlin her hips swayed deliciously as she moved. Gra- _Hermione_ had a natural grace and elegance to her walk that was hidden under her cloak. His eyes were fixed on her behind so he almost bumped into her as she stopped suddenly.

"I almost forgot! You left this behind last time you were here."

She handed him a scroll of paper, and he quickly recognised it as his Charms assignment. He felt the heat rise to his face and any sense of amity he might have felt with her quickly evaporated.

He did not need her to see that.

"Brilliant! So I suppose you and Potter really enjoyed yourselves laughing at my expense. I imagine you thought it amusing that the so-called Slytherin Prince would fall so low!"

Hermione shrank a little under the force of his anger, her brown eyes wide in shock. Even in his temper he noticed they were framed by long and thick eyelashes.

"No, Draco it wasn't like that. We didn't even talk about it!"

"Forgive me! I forgot you are the saviours of us all, Saints Potter and Granger! You are unbearably pious, all of you Gryffindors. I have no idea how any of the other houses even tolerate you. I'll bet that you spend your evenings in your tower talking about the rest of us poor depraved souls. I expect that even makes Weasley feel worthy."

Granger stood taller and stamped her feet. "That's not fair, Malfoy and you know it. I am here to help and I will not ridicule you. If you plan on being irritable and spiteful then you may as well not come back."

She brushed back a stray curl that had fallen into her face, disturbed by her gesticulating. "I will be here to help. But if you aren't willing to act like a decent human, don't come back on Thursday. If you don't come, I'll assume you do not wish to continue our sessions."

Draco was speechless. It didn't matter that he couldn't find the words to say. Granger turned and left the Room of Requirement. His anger deflated as quickly as it rose. He had an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, one he was very familiar with.

 _Get it together, Draco. You are a Malfoy! We do not feel guilt._


	5. Chapter 5

Draco walked the annoyingly long journey back to the dungeons. He didn't know why guilt was swirling in the pit of his stomach. That insufferable girl was a witness to the collapse of his carefully constructed reputation as the unofficial academic and social leader of Slytherin. How dare she be so uppity?

The thought of others being aware of his failures was humiliating. He knew he was intelligent; he wasn't second in the year for nothing. Well, he had been was second in the year. He might have been first too, but he could not bring himself to study as hard as Granger did. He had other things to do with his time. He was quite satisfied with his position as second in the year thank you very much, even if his father wasn't.

 _I'm not second in the year any more._

He couldn't help the situation he was in. It wasn't his fault that the Dark Lord had taken over his home and his life, the threat of death and torture looming over his family a constant in their lives. Draco felt his anger rising again. Dumbledore, Snape, Potter, Granger – none of them understood. He knew he was chosen for this task as revenge, as punishment, for his father's failures last June.

He also knew that it was expected he would die in the attempt. If he didn't succeed, he would die anyway. Either way, he would not be around to protect his mother from the Dark Lord's wrath. His father clearly wasn't going to protect them, incarcerated as he was in the North Sea. He couldn't bear to cause his mother harm.

On reflection, he might have overreacted. Granger was terrible at telling lies and always had been. It did not occur to him for a moment that she would have lied. She was so maddeningly virtuous in her indignation, her wild curls flying in a golden halo about her head, eyes flashing. She did have rather attractive eyes, the commonplace brown eyes somehow deep and thoughtful.

But what in Salazar's name was he doing thinking of her eyes? It was unimportant; he just wouldn't go back.  
Draco shook his head to rid himself of the image of her face, stubbornly floating in front of his eyes. He walked into the common room and froze. He was utterly exhausted but felt too prickly to sleep just yet.

Blaise said, "What are you doing Draco? Are you imitating the statue of Boris the Bewildered?"

"Piss off, Zabini." Draco rubbed his eyes and went to the desk in the corner of the common room which he used so frequently that it had unceremoniously become his. He pulled out his books and got to writing. He might as well finish this homework and get to sleep.

The next morning, Draco handed in his now finished Potions homework. He was far from happy with it, but at least it was the correct length. Granger very obviously ignored him from her place at the front as he walked to Professor Slughorn's desk. She bent her head down, hiding behind a veil of curly hair. Despite this, he could still see a faint flush across the bridge of her nose. Damn, she was adorable when she was angry. But no, he couldn't go back. It was humiliating.

Somehow, Draco managed to find his way through the lesson well enough. Not everything made sense, but the reading he had done certainly helped. So did Granger, he grudgingly admitted to himself. Not that he would ever say so to anyone.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. His fellow Slytherins, now so accustomed to his mercurial ways, left him to his own thoughts. It was just as well as Draco had not the intention, nor the energy, to interact with any of them. After dinner, he wearily stood and made his way to Snape's office. He raised his hand to knock on the door and hesitated. These meetings were never easy.

"Good evening, Draco."

He jumped, startled by the quiet voice. Snape appeared behind him in that near-silent way of his. As much as Draco hated to admit it, the Gryffindors did have a point when they called him 'bat-like'.

"Good evening, Professor."

Snape opened the door to his office and walked in, with Draco following quickly. The last time he had been slow to enter the office, the door had closed in his face, almost breaking his nose. Draco was rather fond of his nose and hoped it would stay the way it was.

"How are the lessons with Potter going? Have you managed to conjure a patronus charm yet?"

"Not quite, Professor. I was able to get a wisp, but nothing corporeal yet."

"Hmm, your progress has been slow, Draco. You must push yourself even harder."

"But, Professor! I am doing everything I can. It's not my fault! Potter is a useless teacher."

"Potter may be useless at many things, Draco. But you know as well as I do that he taught most of your year last year in the Room of Requirement. Even Longbottom managed to produce a corporeal patronus." Snape sneered as if the very thought was displeasing.

"Longbottom? That lump has been able to do it?"

"Yes, Draco. With Potter's teaching, the majority of your year was able to produce patronus charms two years earlier than is normal. It would be very disappointing indeed if a member of my house, particularly such a talented one, should find himself unable to do so now."

Snape walked around his desk and sat down. He carefully placed his hands palms down on the desk, fingers together. "Draco, we must talk about the task you have been given-"

"I have no intention of carrying on with it! I'm done with his crazy plans. You told me I didn't have to worry about it anymore!"

"I did say that. However, the Dark Lord will want updates. You will still need to make it appear as if you are working on something."

"Ugh, I barely have any time anymore! If I'm not struggling through my homework, I'm with Potter. And now he has set up these bloody tutoring lessons with Granger-"

Snape raised a normally stationary eyebrow in surprise. "Miss Granger? She has been giving you lessons?"

Draco bit his lip. He hadn't intended on telling his Head of House about it. There was no need for him to know how drastically his grades had fallen and who he had turned to; how low he had fallen.

"Well, we only met once. It didn't go well. I'm not sure I'll be going back."

"That would be most foolish, Draco." Snape stood and walked around his desk and sat on the edge. He leaned in closer and said, "As frustrating as you might find her company, her academic record is flawless. She was bested in only one of her OWLs by Harry Potter in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Draco slid low into his chair. A small part of him had hoped for some support in this. After all, Snape had clearly been against Draco taking lessons with Potter.

It had been the first day back after the Christmas holidays. He had been summoned to the Headmaster's office before dinner. He already suspected he would be called to some sort of meeting and had not been looking forward to it.

Would Dumbledore try and force the truth out of him? Would he be punished for accidentally cursing Katie Bell?

It was with trepidation that he had climbed up the stairs and knocked on the door. When he entered, Snape had been there, standing near the window. Dumbledore peered at Draco over his half-moon glasses. He seemed to be inspecting him deeply.

"Sit, Draco." He waved to one of two chairs in front of his desk.

As he sat, Draco looked expectantly at Professor Snape, expecting him to take the other seat. Snape, however, did not move from his place.

"While I hope you have had a restful and joyous holiday, I suspect it was quite the opposite, Mr. Malfoy. I trust you were able to spend some much needed time with your mother."

"Yes, Professor. I did." Draco hadn't known how to describe the horror of living with a monster under the same roof.

Dumbledore did not say anything further but continued his inspection.

"Sir, might it be best for Draco if we were to-"

"All in good time, Severus." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. A few seconds later, a knock from the door caused him to turn away. "Come in, Harry."

Draco turned in shock. What the hell was Potter doing here?

Potter walked into the office and paused abruptly when he caught sight of Snape and Draco.

"Excuse me, Professor. I received your message about a meeting. I can come back later."

"You have arrived at precisely the correct time, Harry. Take a seat." He waved at the other empty seat in front of him.

"Professor, I don't understand." Potter stammered a little, his eyes shifting to his left at Draco and back at Dumbledore.

"Harry as you know, Draco holds an unusual position with Lord Voldemort." Draco couldn't resist the shudder as Dumbledore began to talk.

"Professor, I think it more than –" Potter had started.

"I am aware of your theories, and they are not up for discussion at the moment." Dumbledore turned to look at Draco. "Your decision to come forward was a brave one."

Draco lowered his head and looked at his hands. The last thing he felt was brave. He sensed, rather than saw, Potter twitch in his seat.

"We intend to help you through your current ordeal. After all, help is always given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it. I intend to uphold this pledge."

"Professor," said Potter, "what does this have to do with me?"

"Lord Voldemort is growing ever stronger. He is also able to receive news on the goings on of the school. Professor Snape will continue the training you have begunon Occlumency. I hear you are already proficient thanks to your lessons with your aunt Bellatrix." Potter shot Draco a shocked glance.

"However, he will not be able to appear to be biased towards you. As such, Professor Snape and I will have to maintain distance from Draco so that we don't raise any suspicion. Harry, you are therefore going to be the one to assist Draco in this hard time. I trust that you, having some experience helping some of your other classmates, could be most uniquely placed. Especially as it is unlikely anyone will suspect that you'll be working together."

A shocked silence filled the office. Surely he didn't mean for him to work with Potter of all people. Draco looked at his godfather for any signal that he might have heard wrong. Snape did not hide the look of disgust. Judging by the look on his face, Draco had indeed heard correctly.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, I'm not sure this is a good idea. Malfoy is –"

"There will be no argument about this, Harry. Furthermore, it is essential to Draco's safety that this particular arrangement is not known to others. While there may be those that can be trusted, it would be a courtesy to tell no one at all." Professor Dumbledore gave Potter a significant look over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "I am sure that you will be able to figure out a regular meeting time and place. You will of course need to find somewhere away from the other students; somewhere you won't be disturbed."

"Erm," grumbled Potter. "I think I might know a place. But Professor, really –"

"No, Harry. That will do. Draco, you and Harry will meet tomorrow after dinner on the seventh floor corridor. I am assuming that is where you have in mind." Dumbledore glanced at Potter who nodded all the while staring at his feet. "I will expect regular updates on progress through Professor Snape, who will be informing you shortly on when you, Draco, will be meeting him."

Dumbledore stood. "Have a good rest tonight. You will both need to be of sound mind tomorrow."

It had only been a few days since Draco had started his extra-curricular get-togethers, but he was already so tired of it all. Draco looked up at Professor Snape, unable to keep the whining tone out of his voice.

"I hate it, sir. I know they are laughing at me, ridiculing me behind my back! Potter is making this difficult on purpose. Making me dance like a sodding ballerina while under the imperius curse."

"Potter did what? He imperiused you?" Snape said, deathly quiet rage glinting in his eyes. "No, that will not do. Rest assured, Draco, that Mr Potter will not be doing that again. Ever."

Draco smirked. It was nice to know that it was likely that Potter would get into trouble.

Snape stood and paced around his desk. "What in Merlin's name did he mean by it?"

"He said I should know how to throw off the curse."

"Stupid boy spent too much time with that lunatic Mad-Eye." Snape began pacing. "You will most definitely be placed under the curse at some point. It is better to know how to free yourself of it. But Mr Potter is definitely not the person to do it. I imagine it was rather easy to throw it off."

Draco squirmed, unwilling to tell Professor Snape just how difficult it had been.

"So you will be practicing that with me, instead."

Draco couldn't believe it. His godfather seemed to agree with everything the sodding Boy Who Lived and the Elves' Liberator did. The frustration and anger that had been festering inside began to bubble up until they brought him out of his chair and across the room towards Snape.

"Why are you agreeing with everything they are doing? I thought you were meant to be on my side."

"I am on your side, Draco. I will always be on your side. Calm yourself."

"Then why are you doing this to me?"

"I am trying to protect you! As much as I dislike Mr Potter, it must be said that he has a certain knack for surviving. He has faced the Dark Lord no less than four times in the last five years; he has always managed to get away. In no small part is his success to be attributed to Miss Granger. Mr Potter has little in the way of academic prowess. As hard as it may be for you, understand this: If you wish to survive this coming war, you will need allies. You will need to be seen on the right side if the Dark Lord is unsuccessful. You need the Order of the Phoenix. You need Potter. And you especially need Miss Granger."

Draco thought that was rather an odd thing to say, but didn't query it.

"Now, let us continue with your Occlumency. We have wasted a lot of time already and have achieved nothing."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking with the story! Special thanks to hmweasley for being my beta and listening to all my crazy theories!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Dearest readers! Thank you ever so much for your patience. Summer has been super busy! I really appreciate every single one of you. Beta love to hmweasley for patiently fixing my verbs :)**

* * *

Draco woke up the following morning completely exhausted. He despised having his head messed around with, even if the Legilimens was unable to penetrate very far.

Somehow, he was able to stay awake during Ancient Runes though that could have been attributed to the fact that a certain Muggleborn witch was sitting a couple of desks in front of him. She would have been difficult to ignore at the best of times, what with her hand shooting up every few seconds and her voice filling the room with yet another perfectly memorised answer.

Hermione Granger was sitting exactly where the morning light shone in through the window. Draco had always thought brown hair to be rather common, but there was nothing common about her hair that day. The curls which he had so mercilessly teased her for were simply stunning. Each strand seemed to be made of spun gold. He spent most of the lesson watching how the reflection of the morning light changed with the slightest shake of her head. He was grateful when it was finally time for lunch and he was liberated from the dangerous and confusing thoughts he was experiencing.

Lunch passed by in a blur; he barely managed to get a few small bites before it was over and it was time for Potions. Even though Granger was also in that class, they were thankfully held in the dungeons, and he would not be subjected to the blinding glare of the mop on her head. His relief was short lived, though, when he saw Granger across the darkened room.

Her face was lit by candle light, the soft glow making her smooth skin look like polished marble. Her eyes! Merlin, her eyes! Her brown eyes were so alive. Each of the many candles were reflected perfectly, her pupils wide in the dim light.

Draco always loved Potions lessons, not just because his godfather and favourite teacher had taught the class. There was something so completely… well, magical about it. He saw the same wonder and joy in Granger's eyes as she peered into the cauldron that was bubbling on Slughorn's desk, trying to identify what it was. He shook his head in an effort to rid himself of the image of her, denying it existed.

"Good morning, students! Settle down, we have a lot to do today. But first! Let me return your assignments to you." A flick of his wand later, all the pieces of parchment flew across the room till they landed in front of the right person. Draco closed his eyes and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose tightly.

"Well done to some of you, some really inspired ideas there!"

Draco opened his eyes, prepared for another D. He looked at the top of his paper. Was this his work? Yes, there was his name at the top of the parchment. It was his handwriting. There must have been some kind of mistake.

He looked up, and his eyes locked onto hers. She was already looking his way, eyes steady and curious. Without thinking, he nodded his head ever so slightly.

Her face lit up in delight. Draco was once again rendered speechless by the ethereal glow of her in the candlelight. She held his gaze and creeping heat made its way up his neck and to his cheeks. He dragged his eyes away with no small amount of effort.

He looked down again at his parchment, still certain that a mistake had been made. He scanned the paper again. The sentences and the blotches of ink were familiar.

 _Wow, I guess this is mine after all._

Draco couldn't help the smile that was growing on his face. He'd done it. He'd 'exceeded expectations'.

Feeling boosted by the 'E', the rest of the day was very successful in his eyes. He'd been able to follow the theory a bit better in some of his classes, and he'd even been able to answer a few questions.

He entered the Great Hall for dinner with a spring in his step. He sat down between Theo and Pansy and even smiled at her. She simpered girlishly and he was even able to control his sneer.

It was going so well he had forgotten that tonight he'd have to make a decision. Draco looked up just as he was serving himself a second helping of roast potatoes and saw Hermione Granger staring right at him, her plate empty in front of her.

Fuck. She was expecting him tonight. If he didn't turn up… Did he even want to go there?

He stared at his plate while he chewed.

Draco was drawn to her. He knew that. When he was near her, the background faded away into a fuzzy blur and all that was in focus was her. Her eyes, her hair, her mouth. Oh, her perfect mouth! How her full lips would lift at the smallest joy. He lifted his gaze to discreetly take a peek at Granger, just to see how her lips moved while eating.

She was gone.

Draco sat up suddenly with a choked gasp, turning his head first left then right scanning the crowd of students as he coughed and sputtered, spraying roast potato in a wide arc.

"Salazar's hat, you gave me a fright, Draco!" Pansy shrieked, clutching her chest.

"What gives? You scared the shit out of us," Theo said as he thumped Draco's back. Draco paid no attention to them; he'd just caught a glimpse of bushy hair and a swish of a skirt leaving the Great Hall.

"Go sit with the Hufflepuffs then," Draco replied, already starting to stand.

"At least let us know if something's up, Malfoy," said Blaise on Theo's other side. "You know we're all on tenterhooks with the current environment."

"Excuse me." Draco ignored their protests and questions. He almost ran for the door but managed to slow himself to a walk.

As soon as he was through the door, he sprinted up the stairs and along corridors towards the seventh floor. He slid around the final corner just in time to see the door to the Room of Requirement close. He slowed to a walk and braced himself against the door frame, trying in vain to get his breath back to a normal rhythm. As he stood there, he felt his nerve slowly slip away, so before he lost it completely, he charged into the room.

* * *

Hermione was reading at a small utilitarian desk, her slouched and comfortable posture when reading gone. She was sitting straight up, nervously waiting to see if Malfoy would turn up. She had been watching him all day looking for a sign of what he had decided. But his face remained emotionless throughout. Except for that moment in Potions, she thought. He had obviously earned a good mark; he had clearly been affected. But what did the not-so-subtle blush mean?

Suddenly, the door swung open. Malfoy rushed in and closed the door quickly. His chest rose and fell quickly, his blond hair no longer combed back neatly. Hermione's eyes were glued to his as he leaned against the door. His breathing finally returned to a normal pace. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, freeing Hermione from his stare. She racked her brain for something to say, but thankfully, he beat her to it.

"I like what you've done to the place."

Hermione looked around. It was very sparse and practical, with none of the comforts that Malfoy had asked the room for last time. She had just asked the room for somewhere to wait and read her book, clearly with none of the nuance for richness that he had asked for previously.

"I guess I didn't see the need for frills."

She hesitated. She didn't know what to say or where to look, so she compensated by rummaging through her bag for her books and quills. Having collected more than she really needed, she sat back up. Malfoy was still leaning against the door.

"Are you going to sit?"

"Oh, yes." Malfoy frowned as he took his seat. He concentrated on his nails as he said, "I may have neglected to bring my belongings with me for today's … session."

"You mean that you had not planned to come."

Malfoy looked directly at her this time. "No, I hadn't."

Hermione was both pleased and disappointed at the same time. _What on earth is wrong with me? Why am I sad that he didn't want to come back? Why am I pleased that he changed his mind?_

She ran her fingers slowly along the grain of the pine table, admiring the honey and gold tones of the wood. Emotions and thoughts, so poorly formed they were only blurs, swirled around her mind. Whorls and shades, just like the pine.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Granger, I must say … That is, I am…" He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I am sorry."

Hermione thought for a moment about how to say what she wanted without setting him off.

"Thank you for apologising. I appreciate that it can't be easy for you. But before we continue, I feel I must tell you that while I understand you are going through something right now, I will not accept you taking your stress out on me."

Malfoy looked up suddenly. "What do you know?"

Well, now she knew something was up. "No specifics. But you have not been yourself lately. You look like you aren't sleeping properly, and you barely eat anything anymore."

"You watch me eat?" Malfoy had clearly intended to sneer, but the words lacked bite. Instead, he sounded surprised, and so, so young.

 _Crap, now I've gone and put my foot in it. What the hell do I say now?_

"I am currently dealing with some … family issues. My mother has not taken my father's incarceration particularly well and there have been some… unexpected consequences." He stared at his hands as he placed them on the table, fingers spread.

Hermione's mind sharpened again. It had never occurred to her that Malfoy might suffer as a result of the failed plot to recover the prophecy. Of course he would have though. His father was in charge that night; the failure was all the senior Malfoy's.

On an impulse, she placed her hands on his. The silver grey eyes lost a little of the sharp metallic edge.

She bit her lip. _Godric, his hands are soft. I wonder what they would feel like when-_

Malfoy's eyes flickered down to her mouth; his lips parted ever so slightly.

 _Oh my, he looks gorgeous. His mouth looks simply delicious._

"Hermione, I—"

She snatched her hands back suddenly as if burned, catching a look of confused hurt on his face.

 _What in Merlin's name am I doing? He might be a Death Eater for Godric's sake!_

"I thought we could continue with Arithmancy today. How does that sound to you?" Malfoy slid his hands back slowly, turning his eyes down to his fingers.

Hermione felt the inexplicable impulse to ease the frown forming on his pale face. "Draco."

He looked up at his name, his face carefully blank. She offered him a small smile as she summoned the books from the shelves with a wave of her hand.

"I think Arithmancy sounds great."


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione was getting increasingly frustrated. Harry had told her about Professor Slughorn's memory he'd seen in the Pensieve and she had absolutely no idea what a Horcrux was. She absolutely hated not knowing something. There wasn't a single mention of them in any of the books in the library and she didn't have a clue of where to look further. She also hated the disappointed look he had given her as they walked in the courtyard at break time.

Harry's grand plan to collect the real memory was to hang back after class and just ask. He had chosen not to follow her advice on how to approach Slughorn. How did he not see that tact and subtlety would be needed? Especially as Slughorn had taken such pains to hide this memory from Professor Dumbledore himself. But since Won-Won thought that all Harry had to do was to ask…

She couldn't bear to sit with Harry and Ron in Potions any more. Harry was using the Prince's textbook to beat her, and if she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure if she was upset because he was cheating or because everyone thought he was suddenly better than her. And Ron… Well they still weren't talking after the row they had the day of the Quidditch match against Slytherin. She was tired of suffering his snarky attitude and general unpleasant treatment. He had pushed her too far, he had no idea how she used to feel about him. But no more.

As she set up for the next lesson, she purposefully moved her cauldron around the table so she was next to Ernie and was able to ignore Harry and Ron as they whispered to each other.

The lesson itself was a real challenge, something Hermione had desperately wanted for awhile. Finally a task that Harry couldn't cheat at; a fact she did not hesitate to remind him of. Harry had frantically looked at the Prince's copy of Advanced Potion Making for clues in the chapter on Antidotes. He would not be able to take any short cuts or follow a list of instructions; he needed to understand the principles this time.

She waved her wand over her cauldron, feeling very smug as she cast a non-verbal _Partes Revelare_ to reveal the ingredients of her poison. Harry and Ron had no idea how to do this so had resorted to copying a useless spell that Ernie was trying. Slughorn was clearly not impressed the first time he had peered into his cauldron but withdrew, coughing.

She spared a quick look to the other side of the classroom, suddenly remembering that Malfoy was in the room. He was concentrating on his cauldron. A few strands of hair had fallen into his face and were captured in the crease that had formed between his brows. Malfoy chose that moment to look up at her. His hand slipped and he swore softly to himself as some of his potion spilled onto his robes. Hermione smiled to herself and set herself back to pouring her separated ingredients into different phials.

Almost one hour and fifty-two ingredients later, Slughorn was wandering around the classroom inspecting the antidotes brewed by the students. No one had come close to finishing; she was only half-way done herself. Ernie's had solidified, and Ron's looked downright dangerous. Hermione grinned as she stole a quick glance into Harry's cauldron. He had absolutely nothing to show for himself but a viscous mess of green lumps that smelled very strongly of rotten eggs.

Professor Slughorn said, "And you, Harry, what have you got to show me?"

Harry opened his hand to reveal a bezoar. Where did he get that from? She slowly sank down into her chair. There was no way that Slughorn wasn't going to sing his praises now. After a dramatic pause, he started laughing and going on about Harry's inherited prowess. She raised her eyes to stop the tears from overflowing and blinked them away quickly. There was no way she would show how disappointed she was. Professor Slughorn didn't even bother looking at her antidote. She had even cut some of her own hair off to use as an ingredient.

Hermione left the classroom after being dismissed and wandered slowly back to the library. She wanted to prepare for the following lesson and needed a little alone time. She didn't notice a pair of silver eyes watching her walk away.

* * *

"That was really fucked up," said Theo as they walked to their Astronomy lesson. "Potter did absolutely no work, and still Slughorn kisses the 'Chosen Rear'."

Draco grunted in reply, his eyes still following Granger as she walked slowly down the corridor, shoulders slumped and defeated. Her curls weren't even bouncing on her shoulders like they normally did. His eyes narrowed. It was clear that Potter had upset her. It wasn't fair that Potter got preferential treatment just because some people thought he was The Chosen One.

A small voice, a very small, faint voice at the back of his mind said quietly: _It's not fair how she gets treated just because of the family she was born into either..._

Draco shook his head violently. It was too much revelation for one day. That evening, he'd be seeing Potter again. He could find out what had happened then. In the meantime, he had to figure out how to get rid of the potion he had spilled on himself while focusing on Granger.

That evening, as he made his way to the Room of Requirement, he realised he was getting more and more uncomfortable with the way he was feeling. The realisation he'd come to earlier in the day was still bothering him, each thought eating away at his conscience like a swarm of little ants taking tiny bites out of what he had believed in so fervently.

Potter had not yet arrived. Sanctimonious, uncultured arse. Always late.

"What the hell did you do today?" Draco demanded as soon as Potter sauntered into the room five minutes late.

Potter blinked stupidly. "What?"

"I said: what the hell did you do?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy." Potter dropped his bag onto the floor with a thump. "I didn't do anything."

"During Potions. You cheated. I think that's why you've gotten good grades all of a sudden. You've been cheating this whole time. You can't have spontaneously developed any brains or talent."

"Piss off, Malfoy." _Was he uncomfortable? I may have struck a nerve._

"And did you notice how your disciples reacted? Granger looked like you kicked that nasty ginger pet of hers. And I do mean the cat, not Weasel."

Potter looked a little confused but said nothing. He looked _very_ uncomfortable. Definitely cheating.

"And speaking of Weasel, he looked almost as red as his hair. I think he expected to share in your newfound glory. But you never let him do that, do you, Potter? You like the attention all to yourself."

"Shut up, Malfoy! I won't tell you again!"

"Or what, Saint Potter? You'll hurt my feelings too?"

Potter drew his wand from his pocket and pointed it at Draco, and shouted " _Locomotor Wibbly!_ "

Draco had drawn his own wand and cast a nonverbal Shield Charm, causing the Jelly-Legs Jinx to rebound and blast a shelf. He fired back a second spell just as quickly. Potter rolled quickly behind the armchair to avoid it. Draco flicked his wand at the chair and ducked out of the way as it exploded into pieces.

Potter stood and raised his wand, opening his mouth to cast a curse or a jinx. Draco couldn't be sure, nor did he want to find out, which it would be. He hurled himself to the ground and silently cast an _Immobulus_ in Potter's direction.

"Argh! Malfoy, you git!"

 _Got him._

Draco stood slowly, brushing off dust from his sleeves carefully before turning to the other wizard.

"Now, now, Potter. That was not polite at all. One would think the Muggles had taught you nothing of etiquette."

"You don't know anything about it, Malfoy. Just take this blasted charm off me."

"I don't think so," said Draco as he made his way towards his least favourite Gryffindor. "In fact, I think it best if I leave you here for a while longer. It'll wear off eventually. In the meantime, you can consider the way you treat your betters."

"You aren't better than me, ferret! I'll sho-"

Draco flicked his wand, and Potter went silent. "That's better." He sighed. "You may not understand the extent of your triviality, though even you must realise that I am a more gifted wizard than yourself."

Potter's face scrunched up.

"It's true. I have successfully beaten you in a duel, mostly because you take too long to cast your spells. Have you really not yet mastered nonverbal spell casting? Tut tut, Potter. I expected more from the Chosen One."

He collected his belongings and rested his hand on the doorknob. "Oh," he said. "I won't be requiring your services any longer. I will continue my defense training with Granger. She is far superior in intelligence and skill to you."

He stepped out before, in a rash moment, putting his head back in the door. "She's far less of an eyesore too." Draco closed the door. With a chuckle, he began the walk down to his dorm. He hadn't been in this good a mood for several months.

Draco walked into the Slytherin common room with a spring in his step, chuckling at the image of Potter silenced, frozen and enraged.

"Good evening, gentlemen." He sat heavily on one of the plush sofas nearest the large, ornate fireplace. Pansy coughed from where sat next to Theo and looked pointedly at Draco.

"Oh. Hello there, Pansy." She flicked a strand of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms.

"I like this version of Draco. But I like pouty Draco so much more," said Theo with a wink.

"What's put you in such a good mood?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing that concerns you lot." Draco rested his head on the back of the leather sofa and regarded the carving in the low, stone ceiling. The green lanterns glowed faintly. He couldn't help the small smile on his face. It really was a shame he couldn't tell them about Potter without telling them why he was there in the first place.

"Have you made progress with the Dark Lord's mission then?" Blaise asked in a hushed tone.

"Draco, darling, you still haven't even told us what you're doing," Pansy whined.

"You know I can't tell you anything about it. And no, it's not related."

"You're tight-lipped about this whole thing," said Theo. "Well, let's not waste this opportunity. We are finally all together and Draco is in a good mood. Who's up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Go on then," Draco said. "I've not played this in almost a year."

After several raucous rounds of Exploding Snap, the boys made their way to their dormitory. Goyle and Crabbe were already in their pyjamas. (Unsuccessfully so. Goyle's trouser bottoms were inside-out, and Crabbe's flannel shirt was buttoned the wrong way.) Draco got ready for bed, thinking that, on the whole, it had been rather a good day.

* * *

At breakfast, Hermione realised she needed to come up with some kind of system. She looked over at Draco so many times and for so long that Harry had noticed and asked what she was staring at. She tried to keep her eyes on her food but it was so hard to resist looking across the hall. He was in a good mood and was laughing with Nott and Zabini. He was even eating properly and looked less pale.

The Gryffindor table, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Harry was in a foul mood, and he wouldn't tell her why that was the case. Her friendship with Ron was still on the rocks; Lavender guarded him jealously and wouldn't let him get within six feet of another girl.

 _I can't look. I shouldn't look. I won't look._

"Post is here," said Harry. Hermione looked up as hundreds of owls swooped into the Great Hall, dropping their packages and letters to eagerly waiting hands.

 _OK, maybe a quick look._

Malfoy's owl was huge. A graceful eagle owl, with dark feathers and ear tufts nuzzled his hand as he scratched the back of its head. It gave him an affectionate nip and took off.

 _I really ought to get myself an owl_ , she thought. Not yet though, not if she wanted to bring Crookshanks to school with her. _I wonder how jealous he would get._

She turned away from the beautiful plumage, back towards her current preoccupation.

There was a stark difference in his demeanour. He said something to his housemates as he stood and walked stiffly to the doors of the hall. Hermione leapt to her feet and made to follow him. Harry grabbed her elbow and asked, "Where are you going?"

 _Crap_

"To the library. I still haven't found anything on the research project we've been looking at for Dumbledore." She gave him a meaningful look, hoping he would back off. It was unlikely he'd come along.

"Alright, I'll see you in Defence later."

"See you." Hermione dashed out of the hall, hoping Malfoy hadn't gotten too far ahead. She rounded the corner just in time to see the door to a disused flight of stairs close. She opened the door. He was crouched on a step, clutching an open letter with one hand, his hair fisted angrily in the other.

"Malfoy, what's wrong?" She sat next to him, leaving a healthy distance between them.

Malfoy lifted his head. His eyes where rimmed in red, his pupils blown wide. He opened his mouth but not sound came out.

"What is it? You're worrying me." Hermione moved a little closer.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. She moved even closer and put her hand on his shoulder. He grimaced and cringed from her touch.

"I see," Hermione said. _He still thinks I'm a Mudblood_. She stood slowly and patted away the dead leaves that had stuck to her skirt. "I'll leave you alone."

"No! Don't," Malfoy said, his voice cracking with effort. "I can't tell anyone. There is no one I can talk to."

"I hardly think I am the person you need right now." Hermione turned to go until he whispered so quietly she barely heard it.

"Please. I have no one."

"Are you sure?" she said softly. "We aren't exactly close. How could I possibly help?"

The letter crumbled in his hand. He put both fists to his ears and began to rock back and forth. Alarmed, Hermione darted to his side and tried to pry his hands from his head.

"What is it? Please tell me, Draco."

He handed her the scrunched up parchment and immediately resumed his rocking. Hermione scanned the letter.

"Merlin! Draco, how—"

"Well, well. Isn't this an unusual duo to find together?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Dearest Draco,_

 _How I have missed you! I hope you are well, and that you are getting good marks. You've always been such a clever boy. I am so very proud of you._

 _All is well at home. Our guests are settled, and everyone has made themselves at home. I am compelled to ask about the progress of your current project. I hope it is advancing well. We are eagerly and desperately awaiting news from you, Draco darling._

 _I am writing to you from St Mungo's hospital. I seem to have developed a nervous twitch. The healers are working on finding out what has caused it; the current theory is that it is a result of being exhausted. I have spent such a lot of time recently with your dear Aunt Bella since you left and as such I haven't slept very much. She is so very passionate and it is often hard to keep up with her. I am sure though that knowing you are well and on track to achieve your goals will reassure me. I will be returning home tonight._

 _I look forward to hearing from you, my dear. Perhaps within the month? I do miss you so dreadfully._

 _With all my love,_

 _Your mother_

* * *

"Well, well. Isn't this an unusual duo to find together?" The door had opened without either Granger or Malfoy noticing.

Draco flinched, horrified that anyone would see him so vulnerable and with a muggle-born too. Granger jumped out of her skin, hastily hiding the parchment behind her back.

"P-Professor Snape, I-"

"Draco, explain." Snape indicated the letter hidden unsuccessfully behind Granger's back.

"I…" Draco hesitated. He didn't know how to explain. How would he be able to explain the barely suppressed fear he could read in his mother's words? The agony he knew she was feeling? The obvious effects of extended sessions under the Cruciatus Curse she was suffering?

Granger stepped forward. "Sir," she said. "Malfoy is being threatened."

"Who is threatening you, Draco?"

"Not me, Professor." Draco lowered his head, unable to look into his godfather's eyes. The concern and anger on his behalf was too much for him to bear right now. "My mother."

Snape snapped his fingers and Granger hurriedly handed over the note. He read through it, his frown deepening as he reached the signature.

"Have you made any progress since the holidays?"

"No, sir, I've been doing my lessons with Granger and Potter." Draco absently kicked at a crumbling baluster. "I guess I'll have more time now. I'm not going to see Potter anymore. But I had thought that maybe… maybe Granger could help me instead with the Defense stuff."

Granger looked stunned. "Sure, Malfoy. I can do that."

Snape's eyebrows disappeared behind the curtain of greasy hair hanging from his forehead.

Draco looked briefly at her and nodded. She looked fierce and determined, every inch a Gryffindor and for once he wasn't bitter about it. Her gaze was unflinching, and he was grateful that there was not an ounce of pity in her eyes, only calm strength.

No wonder Potter and Weasley hung around with her so much.

Snape looked first at Granger, then at Draco. "Miss Granger, I think you'd better come with us. If this arrangement is going to continue, we will need to make you aware of a few things."

Snape led them to his office in the dungeons. Draco was fond of his godfather and enjoyed spending time with him, but his office really was awful. Cramped and dark, jars of potions ingredients lining the wall. He had never seen any of them used, and he was fairly sure that Snape just put them up to terrify students who had the misfortune of being summoned to this office. It had the same eerie green glow of the common room he was so used to.

The light reflected strangely on Granger's skin. Gone was any colour, leaving only a study in shadows. Draco found he missed her blush.

Snape sat down behind his desk and waved them to seats facing him.

"So, Miss Granger. What do you know?"

"I know that Malfoy is in danger from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and that he has a task to do." She shot Draco a glance. "And I know that he's… that he's…"

"A Death Eater, Granger," Malfoy spat bitterly.

She bit her lip. "Having a mark doesn't make you one of them."

Draco scoffed. "I think you'll find that's exactly what it makes me."

Instead of looking at him, she looked warily at Snape. "Not necessarily."

Huh. So she knew about him. And about Snape.

"Your information is correct, Miss Granger," said Snape. "The Dark Lord has given Draco a great task, one he is unlikely to complete."

"And if I don't do it soon," Draco said, "my mother will be the one who pays for my failure."

"Godric!" she murmured. "What is the task?"

"I have to kill Dumbledore."

"But you're a child!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are, Malfoy. You're underage. How in the Founders' names are you meant to kill the most powerful wizard of our time?"

Snape leaned his elbows on the desk, pressing his fingertips together. "We believe that was the intention."

"Oh! But why? That makes no sense! What purpose does it—" Granger gasped. "Oh! He's punishing you."

Draco grimaced. "Something like that."

"Is that what the necklace was all about?"

Bloody hell she was quick. "Yes. It was meant for Dumbledore. Another of my genius ideas that didn't work."

"But you aren't actually going to kill him are you?" Granger looked wide-eyed between Draco and Snape, seemingly just realising she was in the dungeons with two branded Death Eaters.

"I was under the impression that you were smarter than that, Miss Granger," said Snape. "Professor Dumbledore is well aware of the situation. We are trying to maintain the appearance of advancement to keep Draco and Mrs Malfoy out of danger."

"Right now, I'm trying to find a way to get some of the Dark Lord's followers into the school. I don't want to hurt anybody. It's a complicated enough job that it is taking me a lot of time. And the longer I take, the more hurt my mother gets." Draco shrugged. "I just can't seem to get it sorted."

Granger stood and started pacing slightly. Her brow was furrowed, and her teeth were chewing furiously at her bottom lip. "There's got to be a way to play both sides."

"We've yet to find it, Miss Granger." Snape leaned back in his chair. He frowned at Granger, clearly displeased by her restlessness. "However, we are going to allow the Death Eaters in."

"But- Oh! You're going to arrange a trap for them. That's actually a really good idea."

"Miss Granger, cease your pacing and sit down."

She turned and stood behind Draco's chair, idly tracing the carvings with her fingers. "How are you going to get them in? They can't Apparate on the grounds."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Unlike your friends we aren't stupid, Granger." With a huff, she sat back down in her chair and looked at him expectantly. "We're going to use the vanishing cabinet. The only problem is that it needs repairing and it is taking forever. By the time I manage to fix it, the Dark Lord will have "

"How will the vanishing cabinet help?"

"It leads to another one in Knockturn Alley. It's a complicated enough job. Borgin sent me instructions and incantations but I've not had much luck yet."

"I'll help Malfoy fix the cabinet. We're already working together most evenings. We can do it then." She turned to Draco and asked, "Why does it need repairing in the first place?"

"Peeves dropped it a few years ago."

"Good. Physical damage should be easier to fix."

"That still leaves us with fighting the Dark Lord's followers when they have entered the castle, Miss Granger," said Snape. "I will not be there to assist."

She grinned, an unnerving sight in the green light of the lake. "I think I can get a few people together."

* * *

"I've drawn us up a schedule so we can manage our time between studying, Defense and cabinet work efficiently," said Hermione as she sat down at their desk. Malfoy had gotten to the Room of Requirement first that evening, so it was once again opulent and elegantly furnished. It seemed he was feeling a little more gracious than before, as some of the upholstery was in gold and scarlet. It was a subtle change, but one she appreciated nonetheless.

"Of course you did," he replied with a roll of his eyes. The gesture lacked bite though; his mouth was twisted into a sly grin.

Hermione shot him a sly smile in return. "Today, we can work on our homework for an hour and a half. Then we can do some research on the cabinet and how to fix it." Hermione cast a quick Protean charm to make a second schedule for Draco. "Just add whatever subjects you want to cover on here, and mine will change too. This way I'll know which extra books to bring with me from the library."

"I know how a Protean charm works, Granger."

"Oh," said Hermione. It wasn't often she was surrounded by people who knew what she was talking about.

They fell into an awkward silence. Hermione met Malfoy's eye, but he quickly looked away. He seemed to be struggling to say something, his mouth opening and closing.

"Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?"

"I just wanted to say… Well, what I mean is… ugh!" He let his face fall into his hands and groaned. "Fankufirhepingmee!"

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Malfoy ran his hands over his face. He took a deep breath and said, "Thank you for helping me."

Hermione smiled. "That's quite alright."

"No. really." He hesitated and rubbed the back of his head. "No one else would do this for me. I've been horrible to you, yet you've been nothing but kind and patient. I don't deserve this." He picked at the table. Hermione noticed his hands were shaking and his nails were bitten to the quick.

She leaned across the table and took his hands firmly in hers. She stared at him until he looked up. "You don't deserve to be forced to do something awful for an evil man. You don't deserve to have your mother's life hanging in the balance. You don't deserve to lose your childhood for mistakes your parents have made."

He took a few more deep breaths and smiled wryly. "You're too forgiving for your own good, you know? I think the Sorting Hat should have put you in Hufflepuff, even if this plan of yours is very Slytherin."

"I am quite happy in Gryffindor, thank you very much," Hermione sniffed and leaned back, releasing his hands from hers. She instantly missed the contact.

"Thank you, Hermione."

Hermione grinned. "You're welcome, Draco. So, what shall we work on for the next hour and fifteen minutes?"


	9. Chapter 9

The rest of January passed quickly and uneventfully, for which Draco was grateful. He continued to meet with Granger a few times a week to study and work on the cabinet. As much as he loathed admitting it to anyone, he was gradually beginning to rely on her for company. He enjoyed their conversations; they were frank, and he had no need to agonise and worry over every single word. She knew about the plan to get the Death Eaters into the school, and she didn't judge him for it. She also wouldn't take any of his shit either, which meant that they often descended into petty arguments, their retorts lacking sting.

He was even making a real effort to start calling her Hermione again. Saying her name felt unfamiliar and exotic. And when she used his name, well, it felt like a lazy finger traced up his spine.

They had yet to attempt making any repairs to the cabinet. GrangerーHermione—had insisted that they should know as much as they possibly could about it before they started. He was a more roll-the-sleeves-up-and-get-stuck-in kind of person and had said so. The only response he had from her was a wry smile, an eye roll and a muttered, "Boys!"

Draco was walking down to the Slytherin common room on the last night of January after an animated and passionate argument about the rights of magical beings. He secretly agreed with Hermione on most of her points, but hadn't said so. He chuckled quietly, remembering the way she almost fell off her chair at some of the more obnoxious things he had said.

He found his friends sitting by the fire, Pansy watching Blaise and Theo play Wizard's Chess. From the corner of his eye, he saw Pansy gesturing for him to sit near her. He sighed, resigned to another evening of fighting her off. So far, the most subtle of let downs had not been recognised for what they were. He would need to start being more straightforward with her, and it wasn't going to end well.

Luckily, Theo rescued him.

"Thank Salazar! Draco darling, I need your help." Theo waved frantically and patted the stool next to him. "Blaise is thrashing me again, and I can't see any moves that don't eventually result in losing some pieces."

"Zugzwang," Draco said, peering over his shoulder.

"Bless you," said Theo.

"No, you dolt. It means that no matter what move you make, you weaken yourself."

Theo threw his arms up. "That's it! I give up. You take over, Draco. I can't stand to lose yet another game to Blaise." He flopped inelegantly onto the sofa next to Pansy.

Draco leaned forward, tapping a finger on his chin as his eyes swept the board. Theo had royally cocked this one up.

A hand was placed on his shoulder. He tried to ignore it and focus on the game. The hand started moving and squeezing in what he supposed was meant to be a soothing massage. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to subtly tell Pansy he didn't want her attention. It didn't work. If only she was as smart as Hermione, she would have realised that now wasn't the time. Hermione would never think of such cheap tactics either.

The board went blurry for a moment as his brain and other parts of his body responded to the thought of Hermione with her hands on his shoulders, possessively claiming him for all to see. He blinked. It wasn't Hermione claiming him. She wasn't there, nor would she ever want anything to do with him. It was Pansy staking a claim on him. _Ugh_.

He reached up and grabbed her wrist. "No. Don't touch me, Pansy." He hadn't meant to be harsh, but even he heard the dismissal in his tone. He winced and turned quickly just as Pansy wrenched her hands away from him and walked quickly back towards the girls' dormitories.

Draco ran his hand down his face. "Great," he mumbled.

"You've really gone and done it this time," drawled Blaise.

"Don't know why she bothers. It's not like we can't tell your attention is elsewhere at the moment," said Theo. "Pansy just doesn't do it for you, eh?"

"I have been busy," Draco leaned forward and whispered. "The Dark Lord-"

"The Dark Lord nothing, Draco," Theo snapped back. "We've seen the secret smiles and the appreciative glances. I suppose that's who you're trying to impress with the newly rediscovered academic prowess of yours."

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit! They could not know about Hermione. If the Dark Lord found out…_

Draco schooled his face to mild confusion. He hoped the panicked heat creeping up his neck and onto his face wouldn't show. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure, Draco. But just know, we wouldn't ever say anything. About family, possibly," Theo gestured at himself. "I would happily throw my father under the Knight Bus if I could get away with it. But our friends..."

"He's right," said Blaise. "The Dark Lord has everything else. He can't tell us who to, you know-" He winced a little, struggling with the sentimentality that Theo had no problem talking about. "-care about. Regardless of blood status."

"Thanks, I guess." Draco rubbed the back of his neck. "I appreciate the sentiment, guys, I really do. But I still haven't got a clue what you're on about."

"Tell that to Granger. Every time you look her way, she gives you one of those sexy little smiles." Theo sighed. "If my heart wasn't already in the hands of someone else, I might consider turning for her."

Draco ignored the thumping in his chest. She was just smiling at him; they were friendly after all. That was the end of it, wasn't it? Desperate to change the subject, he asked, "Who have you got the hots for then, Theo?"

Theo sighed and gave a melancholy smile. "Now that is a secret worth hiding from You-Know-Who."

* * *

Hermione walked back up to the dormitories from the library, frustrated and tired. She had spent so much time working with Malfoy recently that she had barely had time to continue her search for the Horcruxes. All she had managed to find in the hour she had dedicated to her hunt was a disgusting old book that wailed when it thought it was handled too roughly. She thrust _Magick Moste Evile_ into her bag, the seams groaning at the assault.

 _Bags just aren't made big enough. I really need to learn how to do undetectable extension charms._

As she walked into the common room, she found Harry sitting on his own. Ron was thankfully nowhere to be seen. He was probably playing tonsil tennis with Lavender. Hermione shuddered and sat with Harry on her favourite squishy armchair.

"So, I can't find anything about Horcruxes. I've looked everywhere. All I have is a reference in this nasty old book." She tugged Magick Moste Evile from her bag and dropped it onto the table. "It's full of Dark Magic, and even this book says Horcruxes are too awful to talk about."

"Maybe you've been too busy with more important things. More important people." Harry plucked sullenly at a loose thread of his armchair.

"Harry Potter! How could you say such things to me? I know how important this is to you, to all of us."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I'm doing everything I can, and I'm getting frustrated." Harry brushed his hair back off his face.

"Are you though? Because instead of creating a solid plan, you're moping around Professor Slughorn and pouring over the Marauder's Map." Hermione forgot the rest of her argument when she noticed his hair sticking up where he'd brushed it back. She giggled.

"What?" Harry asked.

She pointed. "Your hair. You look like you've been electrocuted."

He stuck out his tongue at her and hastily patted his hair down. "Better?"

"Hardly. But it'll do." She took a deep breath. It had been so long since she had a moment alone with him that she still hadn't told him about the cabinets. She glanced around the room quickly to make sure no one was in earshot.

"I need to tell you something. Draco-"

"So it's Draco now, is it?" Harry leaned back into his chair.

"Don't be ridiculous. I spend a great deal of time with him. It would be silly to use surnames. We work together, and he is on our side-"

"Bullshit. He's up to something, and I know it."

Hermione dropped her head into her hands. "Not this again, Harry. You know that he's working with us. Dumbledore said-"

"Dumbledore says a lot of things and trusts people too easily. As do you."

"I really wish you would stop interrupting me. It's rude, and I'm quickly losing patience with you."

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I don't trust him. I can't trust him. But I do trust you. What were you going to tell me?"

Hermione quickly filled him in on the plan, and watched as Harry's eyes grew wider and wider.

"Fuck, this plan could work brilliantly!" Harry smiled broadly. "Well done, Hermione! It's a great plan."

"It wasn't my plan, but it could also go really, really badly. We're talking about voluntarily allowing Death Eaters into the castle. You can't keep accusing Draco of scheming and plotting to take us down when he's working with us. For this to work, we need to work together."

"Well, shit. I hate it when you talk sense." Harry gave her a tight hug. "Are you sure you're okay though? He might be working to help us take down Voldemort, but that doesn't mean he can't still be a prejudiced, privileged git."

"He's been nothing put a perfect gentleman, Harry. Don't worry about me." He gave her a peculiar look. "Good night, Harry. I'll see you at breakfast." She patted his arm and went to bed.

* * *

After several hours of tossing and turning, Hermione sat up. I may as well make use of this time. She reached an arm over to her bedside table to her stack of books which towered above her. She had a lot of research to get through between her search for Horcruxes and working on the Vanishing Cabinet. She chose a book at random, unwilling to make the choice between Horcruxes or Cabinets.

" _Lectio lucem_ ," she whispered. A small ball of light appeared and floated gently just above her head and illuminated just the pages of the book she had opened. Hermione took a moment to appreciate the spell Madam Pince had taught her one evening in fourth year.

Wand lore. That was not what she was expecting. In fact, she didn't really remember picking up _A Translation of the Latin book of Wandlore_ by I. Terpres from the library.

She flipped through to the section on wand woods, curious to see what was said about her own vine and dragon heartstring wand.

"An extremely sensitive wand which senses its owner from a great distance long before the prospective witch or wizard comes in contact with it, in some rare cases going so far as to exude a bright display of magic."

She turned a few pages and found a section on willow wands. She barely suppressed a snort. "Willow wands most often choose witches or wizards who have great potential, but often hide deep insecurities." That definitely described Ron.

She turned a few pages, mentally going through the people she knew and the wand woods they wielded. Her heart gave a little skip as she read the description for Hawthorn wands: "Complex and intriguing, these wands prefer a witch or a wizard of talent as they have a tendency to backfire if mishandled. The wood comes from a tree which has the power to heal, yet reeks of death. As such, the owners of Hawthorn wands tend to be equally complex and conflicted."

Conflicted seemed an apt description for her blond collaborator.

It was then that a revelation hit her. She just couldn't wait to tell him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks everyone for your patience! It has been a crazy start to 2019. I present to you, dearest readers, chapter 10, and hope you enjoy it.**

 *****I have used some direct quotes from JK's own writing of the first Apparition Lesson for the dialogue to keep to canon.*****

 **Special thanks to hmweasley for picking up on my ridiculous mistakes.**

Daphne had whispered to Draco in the common room the next morning that Pansy had cried herself to sleep last night. Her devastation had turned into rage, and Draco did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. She might not have been a particularly talented witch, but she could cause plenty of damage with her verbal talons. Draco sat down as far as inconspicuously possible and ate his breakfast, doing his best to keep his head down and ignore the glares directed at him by Pansy. Theo and Blaise tried to alleviate the awkward atmosphere by making light conversation, mostly revolving around the disaster that was Macmillan in Potions. Theo regaled the Slytherin table with an account of the latest attempt at brewing antidotes.

"... and then," Theo snorted, "the idiot added in powdered Erumpet Horn to his mixture."

Only Draco smiled. Very few of their year had chosen to continue Potions, not that many Slytherins were particularly good at it, despite Snape's obvious bias. The addition of Erumpet Horn was disastrous, but he was certain no one else had any idea just how disastrous.

Blaise chortled in amusement. "So what was once a gloopy, dark brown slime immediately turned a bright purple! And then—"

"Boom!" Theo threw his arms out dramatically. "The cauldron exploded, and the purple gloop went everywhere. Including over Boot and Corner!"

The owls swooped in at that moment to deliver that morning's post. Crabbe and Goyle blinked in surprise as two large and scruffy-looking owls landed in front of them. Neither of them had received letters in months. They both opened their letters, ripping off the wax seals and reading their letters as Draco turned back to his food.

"So, my corpulent comrades," Theo said. "What is the news from the world outside?"

Goyle looked at Theo suspiciously. "What does 'corpulent' mean? Are you tryin' to be funny with me?"

Theo grinned but was cut of by Blaise before he could say anything else. "It means 'dignified', Goyle."

Goyle nodded, appeased. "My dad says Draco needs to let us help him."

Draco summoned a sneer. "Help me with what? My homework? I can manage on my own, thank you very much."

"No not with that," Crabbe said, scanning the hall. "With the other… _thing_."

"Sod your fathers. You are both too stupid to help anyone, and you certainly aren't discreet enough."

"We're not stupid." Goyle half stood.

"Fine then. You aren't stupid. You're asinine."

"What—"

"Means 'thoughtful', Gregory," Theo interrupted. "Anyways, let's get back to the common room. We have our first Apparition lesson in less than an hour."

* * *

Draco made his way back to the hall sometime later with Crabbe and Goyle. He had told them over and over again that he had no intention of letting them help.

"We can keep watch for you," they had said. Draco had paused, unable to think of a good excuse. He simply said, "No." There was no way he would allow them anywhere near Hermione. He stood at the back of the Great Hall, far away from the eyes and ears of the teachers and the strange translucent, frail-looking man, presumably their instructor for the morning.

"Now keep quiet," Draco hissed. "Don't talk about it here."

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" Professor McGonagall glared at him. The lesson had apparently started, and he hadn't noticed. He felt the rush of blood as it traveled up his neck and across his cheeks. He glanced quickly at his godfather, who arched a questioning eyebrow. Draco shook his head subtly.

Draco looked to the instructor, who had carried on as if nothing had happened. "I would like each of you to place yourselves so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

Chaos ensued as the students spread out around the hall. Crabbe chose that moment to push Draco further. "Well, how much longer is it gonna take?"

"I don't know how much longer, all right? It's taking longer than I thought it would." He stopped, realising he wasn't getting anywhere.

"Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing. Please, just stay out of it. Stay safe."

"It's nice to see that you care about your friends after all." Draco spun around. Potter was standing just a few feet away, listening to every word they had said. "I always thought you just used people and spat them out when you were done with them."

"Quiet!" The Heads of House shouted. Potter smirked at him and moved to stand by a wooden hoop that appeared a few feet in front of him.

Draco was unable to do anything more than glare at the back of Potter's head for the rest of the lesson. He hadn't managed to Apparate, but neither had Wonder Boy. As the students began talking and making their way out of the hall, Wonder Boy himself approached him.

"What do you want, Potter? I could do without this conversation." Draco glanced around the room to check where Crabbe had gone.

"I don't care what you could or couldn't do without," said Potter. "But I do care about my friends."

"Of course you do. Every Gryffindor has a bleeding heart."

Potter ignored the quip and pressed on. "Just know that, should one of my friends feel… unhappy, there will be consequences."

"Well, bully for them! Why are you sharing this particular piece of information?"

"You know why." Potter took two steps towards him until they were practically breathing the same air. Draco stood tall and let his hands fall to his sides in a casual way, his fingers twitching to grab his wand at the first sign of trouble. "If you hurt her," Potter muttered. "When you hurt her, I will tear you apart."

Draco struggled to find the words he needed to deny any understanding, but was rescued by a most unlikely person.

"Harry, is this git bothering you?" Weasley had plodded over. Draco didn't think he'd ever be pleased to see him, even if it was to be rescued from an awkward conversation.

"No," said Potter. "We're all good here. Just setting something straight."

"Let the record show," Draco drawled. "Something had been set straight."

"I'm not joking, Malfoy."

"Neither am I, Potter." Draco took a step back. "We're done here." He turned and walked out of the Hall.

* * *

Draco could not stop thinking about Potter's warning. He had sat with his friends in the common room, his leg bouncing in a manner that his mother would have frowned upon. When his restlessness got the best of him, he paced in front of the fireplace.

 _Hermione. Hermione. Hermione._

No, he really didn't want to hurt her. That was the last thing in the world he wanted. What he did want was… to talk to her. Yes, he wanted to talk to her. But he didn't remember when he was meant to see her next. He darted back to his room, ignoring the calls of his friends. He slammed the door shut behind him. He threw open his trunk and ran his hand along the inside to the hidden pocket at the back where he found the charmed schedule.

Shit. The next session was not until Monday. He sat down on his bed and stared at the square for 'Saturday', left empty for homework. She probably wouldn't even notice if he added a rendezvous to the schedule. He sighed deeply. He could always try. If that didn't work, well, he'd get some work done figuring out the blasted cabinet.

* * *

Ron had commandeered Harry's attention after the Apparition lesson, leaving Hermione alone. She didn't mind though. It was about time she went to the library for some new material on the Horcruxes. She was desperate to tell Draco her thoughts on the cabinet, but there was no way that she'd be able to talk to him at the moment. It would just have to wait until they next saw each other.

She dropped her bag on her favourite table at the back of the library, hidden in an alcove beside the roped-off entrance to the Restricted Section, and stepped neatly over the rope. Deeper and deeper down the aisle she went, noting the books she'd looked at already. At the very end of the aisle, on the oldest and dustiest shelf she had found, was a gap. There was a layer of dust on the space left by the missing book, but it was not as thick as the dust that lay on the areas around it. The book had clearly been removed from the library a long time ago. Hermione wondered what horrors it must have contained to have necessitated removal; the other books in the restricted section were terrifyingly grotesque.

Hermione pulled out a dusty old book bound in grey leather with faded embossed lettering. She blew away the dust to read the title: Charms, Jinxes and Curses for the Discrete Magic Wielder by Prudens O'ccultatum. She had read it before. First, to help Harry with the Triwizard Tournament, then again to find some useful material for Dumbledore's Army. There was absolutely nothing she could have used either time, as most were either too horrible, dangerous or illegal. She had found the Undetectable Extension Charm there though.

She was fairly sure there was nothing in it, but it wouldn't hurt to check. _I'll save that one for last._

Along with a few other books, Hermione made her way back to the table and began the painstaking task of combing through each and every page. She found nothing at all. She closed the second to last book and tossed it onto the pile of discarded books before pulling Charms, Jinxes and Curses towards her. She picked up her bag and placed it on the table, pulling everything out of it and arranging it on the table.

Hermione paused with her wand held over the bag. She looked around her quickly, making sure that no one could see her. She was completely hidden. Hermione leaned over Charms, Jinxes and Curses and squinted at the tiny,handwritten instructions. The ink had almost faded. The charm itself was simple enough, but the complicated wand movement had to be just right to mimic the expansion of the internal dimensions and the shape of the object being charmed.

 _There's no way I'll get this done today._

Hermione gave her wand a practice wave. The complex motion of grand waves and tiny flicks as she moved her arm created the image of a conductor leading an orchestra through a musical masterpiece. Beethoven's 9th, she thought with a smile.

Feeling confident that she'd made a good start, she returned the books with a flick of her wand (another trick learnt from Madam Pince) and gathered her things. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor as she stuffed her books and parchments back into her bag. It was the work schedule she had created for Draco. As she picked it up, it suddenly warmed in her hands. She unrolled it quickly and scanned it for changes. There, under 'Saturday', was the message:

 _Are you free? Same time, same place? - DM_

She smiled. Her chest fluttered briefly. She told herself it was the excitement of sharing her idea, nothing more. She wrote a quick response and decided that a shower was in order, to get all the dust off, of course.

Hermione was so excited to let Draco know what she had discovered that she got to the Room of Requirement almost half an hour early. She quickly sat in one of the armchairs closest to the crackling fireplace facing the door. She pulled her still slightly damp braid over her left shoulder. Then her right. Then her left again. Frustrated, she put her hands underneath her legs. A glance at the small clock on the mantelpiece told her she still had twenty minutes to wait.

Her knees bounced, seemingly out of control. Even placing her hands on her knees to force them down didn't work. Annoyed, she stood and began pacing, wringing her hands in an effort not to play with her braid. She wandered over to the bookshelf, hoping to be distracted by books, but was unable to organise her stream of consciousness into a coherent thought. It was then that she heard the door open.

* * *

Draco paused outside the door to the Room of Requirement. It had already appeared, which meant Hermione was already inside. He combed his hair with his fingers and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. He breathed deeply and opened the door.

His breath caught in his throat. Hermione was exquisite. As she stood by the bookshelf, the light from the fireplace painted her skin a glowing gold. Her eyes widened as he walked in.

"Good evening, Hermione," said Draco, feeling strangely formal.

"Hello, Draco," said Hermione. She took a few small steps towards him. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you." He waved towards the armchairs in front of the fire. "Shall we sit?"

Hermione chose the armchair facing him and perched on the very edge of the cushion, her hands clamped between her knees. Draco sat, awkwardly crossing and recrossing his legs.

"So what did you want to talk about?" said Hermione.

"Hmm?" Draco looked at her blankly.

"You added this meeting to our schedule. Is there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, there is, but its not strictly academic."

"Oh?"

"I spoke to Potter today." Draco picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his trousers. "He's very worried about you. And protective. He seems to care for you. More than I expected."

"Yes, we love each other very much. I'm an only child, you see. So is Harry. He does have a cousin who he grew up with, but he's dreadful. So we're lucky to have found a brother and sister in each other."

"A brother?" Draco felt confused.

"Yes, Harry is very much the brother I never had growing up. I love him dearly and would do almost anything for him. And he feels the same."

A silence fell around them as Draco pondered the significance of this conversation. _What in Merlin's name should I say next?_

"I—" Hermione started. Draco looked up quickly. She tucked a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear. "I may have found something that could help us fix the cabinet."

Grateful for the change in conversation, Draco asked, "What is it?"

"I was doing a little reading, and I came across a book about wands." She paused and looked at him as if waiting for him to say something.

"I'm listening," Draco said.

Hermione went on. "I think the problem we've had so far is that we're assuming that the cabinet is spelled to Vanish things. I think that's only part of it. I think that the cabinet itself is magic. It is, in fact, made from magical material, a magical wood."

"So you think that it is made from a magical wood similar to that of wand woods?"

"Yes, exactly!" Hermione stood. "Each wand wood has very particular properties, which is why different wands suit different people. The personalities of the person match the properties of the wand wood." Her arms swung around, her motions wilder as she got into the flow of her explanation.

Draco stood. "I suppose you've identified which wood it is?"

Hermione smiled. "I think I have. At first, I thought it might be made from Black Walnut. Wands made from that wood are extremely sensitive to the emotions of their owners and can lose their power or fail to work properly if the owner has any sort of self-doubt. It seemed to make sense until I saw Maple. Look." Hermione waved her wand and summoned a heavy book towards herself. She quickly opened it to a page marked with a faded bookmark with a drawing of a girl in a yellow dress. "Here. 'Maple wands often choose the adventurous wizard. Challenges and travelling strengthen the wand and cause it to shine brightly, burnishing itself. This is not the wand for a sedentary witch or wizard.'"

"Hermione, you are so brilliant! I could kiss you!" Draco clamped his mouth shut quickly. He was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that, you are—"

Hermione leaned into him and brought her lips to his. Draco closed his eyes. Her lips were so soft and her kiss feather-light.

She pulled away. "Draco, I—"

"Kiss me," he whispered hoarsely. "Kiss me again, Hermione." He opened his eyes. "Please."

Hermione took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. She gasped as he tugged her a half step, enough to close the gap between them. She placed her free hand on his chest. Draco held his breath, and she fisted his shirt in her hand to pull him closer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello dear readers! Thank you so very much for all the lovely reviews and follows. It has been such a moral booster when the writing block set in. I hope you enjoy it! As always, much thanks and love sent to hmweasley for being the most patient beta reader.**

 **razzle xxx**

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure where she got her nerve from. Being a Gryffindor was all well and good for your normal, everyday variety of bravery: the kind that made her stand tall and steady in battle, wand held high.

But this was more a leap of faith.

Leaping to kiss him was reckless and not like anything else she had ever done. She had panicked, bracing herself for an onslaught of derisive vitriol. Instead, he had begged her to kiss him again. And it was staggering.

Godric, I couldn't stop if I wanted to.

He held her like he was a drowning man and she was the light above the surface of the deep black expanse of water above. He clutched her tightly to him, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. Her body was curved and pressed along his entire length.

She closed her eyes and groaned his familiar oaky, spicy scent washed over her, flooding her senses. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her. His tongue flicked against her lips, begging entry. She acquiesced and he moaned into her mouth. He started moving backwards, stumbling as they bumped into furniture. He fell back into one of the armchairs and pulled her on top of him. Their kiss broke for a moment.

"Draco, are you—"

"Stop talking, Granger. I'm rather busy here."

He reached behind her thighs and pulled her knees so that she was straddling him. She blushed when she remembered that she was wearing a skirt and tights, leaving only thin layers of fabric separating their most intimate areas.

She instantly forgot her embarrassment when she felt Draco's mouth on the soft area right behind her ear as his hands slowly moved up her thighs, the calluses on his hands catching on her tights. She put her hands on his shoulders before running them down his back, marveling at the muscles there. He might have looked slight and soft, but underneath his shirt, he was rippling muscle. He moved down her neck, pressing soft kisses, sucking exquisitely at her clavicle. She moaned, throwing her head back and arching herself into him.

Panting, he broke away and rested his forehead against hers. Hermione gasped, hoping he couldn't hear the way her heart was beating. What had happened to her? She had become a wild thing, wantonly pressing herself against him and moaning. Would he think less of her now? Or was this exactly what he had expected of a muggle-born girl like her?

I should go. I shouldn't be here.

"I can hear you thinking, Hermione." Draco's eyes were closed. She could see the faint creases on his lids, and the fading circles under his eyes.

"I—" He stopped with a finger to her lips.

"No, don't. I know you want to go. Stay. Please."

He opened his eyes and stared at where his finger was still pressed to her lips. He gently moved his thumb across them.

"How did you know—"

"That you were thinking of leaving? Easy. I just thought to myself, what would Granger do now?"

"You do that a lot, you know?" she said.

"What's that?" he asked, his grey eyes finally meeting hers. "Read your mind? Or stare at your delectable mouth? It's hard to keep my eyes from it."

"No. Interrupt me," she said.

"You keep trying to ruin a perfectly lovely moment by injecting your infallible logic into it. What kind of person would I be if I let you do that?"

"A reckless one?"

"You have been a bad influence on me, Hermione Granger. I appear to have acquired Gryffindor qualities."

"Ha! It might do you some good, Draco Malfoy."

"I think it just might." He gave her a considering look. "Now stop trying to distract me from our work. You, of all people, should know better."

"I'm distracting you?"

"Yes, you are. After all, you are the one who kissed me."

She hated it when he smirked at her like that. Like he was challenging her to a fight he thought he had already won.

"You asked me to!"

"Not the first time."

"Fine, then let's get back to work." She moved to stand up, but he held her in place.

"Where do you think you are going?"

She huffed in frustration. "To the desk."

"I never said we had to go to the desk."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How exactly are we going to do any work over here?"

He grinned. "Like this."

He wandlessly spelled the armchair to widen and spun her round till she was sitting with her legs across his lap. He smirked at her again. "And the book, Miss Granger."

Rolling her eyes, she summoned A Translation of the Latin book of Wandlore, grateful that she had also become adept at wandless spells. She opened it to the page on the properties of maple.

"Do you have some ideas already?" Draco asked her.

"Not really. I've not done much research on the magical properties of different woods. I haven't found anything in the books yet."

"Let's have a look."

Maple wands often choose the adventurous wizard. Challenges and travelling strengthen the wand and cause it to shine brightly, burnishing itself. This is not the wand for a sedentary witch or wizard.

Draco read the book carefully. Hermione couldn't help but scrutinize his features, not ever having had the chance to inspect him so closely. His eyelashes were a shade darker than his hair, as were his eyebrows. The darker lashes framing silver and slate eyes. His nose straight, leading to his mouth.

He has a beautiful mouth.

His lips were defined and oh so kissable, the upper lip slightly more full than the bottom one. The sarcastic smirk was missing from his expression as he focused on the book.

"You're staring, Hermione."

Oh! "No, I'm not. I'm reading." She felt the familiar blush creep up her cheeks.

Draco closed the book with a snap. "Alright then, what page were we on?"

She blinked. Her mind suddenly focused on an ink stain on her fingers, and she could not for the life of her remember seeing the page.

"It's fine. Don't be embarrassed. It's understandable. Who wouldn't stare at me? I am an incredible specimen of wizard-kind."

"Specimen indeed. You really do think highly of yourself."

"Perhaps," he agreed. The smile he gave her was softer, and less self assured, leaving her breathless in its sweetness.

"Your eyes really are an unusual colour."

"Another of the many things I have inherited from my family. I asked my father once about the origins of our eye colour. Apparently there is a rather interesting history behind it. The Malfoys came from the continent, most recently from France about a thousand years ago. However, Father said that before that the family had lived further east and were medieval vampire hunters or some nonsense of the sort. The silver colour was some sort of extra protection."

"Oh, that is rather fascinating." She poked his side. "Trust you to have a family history for everything."

His smile disappeared, and he put on an affected air of arrogance. "My Lady Granger, we do nothing unless it benefits us."

"Speaking of benefiting you, Lord Malfoy," she poked him again, deflating his puffed up chest, "how about we get back to work?"

"Lord Malfoy… I like that." He smiled. "As my Lady commands."

My Lady… hmm I like that, too.

It was a glorious feeling having Hermione on his lap. If he was honest about it, he would say that he struggled to pay attention to anything at all but the feel of her warmth against his body and the luxurious smell of her skin and hair.

"—and I really don't think we can do much except contact them both. What do you think?"

"Huh?"

"Weren't you listening? I said we have to contact Ollivander and Borgin to find out more about maintaining magical objects."

"Sorry, I got a bit light-headed from a lack of oxygen. Your hair is suffocating." Draco reached up and brushed a curl away from her face. It curled around his finger, clinging to it possessively.

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "Sure you did. I asked you what you thought of asking Ollivander and Borgin for some help."

"That would be fine. I'll send an owl to Borgin in the morning to see if he has any understanding of how to maintain magical furniture."

"And I'll owl Ollivander on maple wands."

Draco looked at the small clock on the mantelpiece. "Since we've got a plan of action, and we don't have anything else to do…" He took the heavy tome from her and dropped it to the ground. His arms snaked around her body and pulled her tightly to him. "I have an idea of how to spend the rest of the evening."

"Do you now?"

Once he had her pressed tightly against his chest, he reached up to run his knuckles gently across her cheek and her lips.

Salazar, her skin is so soft. I could touch her all day.

She gave a delicate shiver, and he saw her eyes grow darker. Draco gently freed her bottom lip from her teeth and leaned in.

"Yes," he replied.

Dear Miss Granger,

I am, of course, willing to assist you in understanding wand maintenance. I am most curious as to why you would enquire about maple specifically when your own 10¾ inch wand is vine and is strongly attached to you, having been one of only two wands I have ever seen reacting to its owner's entrance to my shop.

Nevertheless, I can share with you a little of what I know of maple wands. High quality maple wood is very expensive and highly sought after, mostly due to its reputation for choosing talented witches and wizards. It is a beautiful wood, which requires regular use and challenges else it will become dull and lacklustre. I have sold only one maple wand in recent years. In fact, to Mr C Weasley, whose family I know you are familiar with.

I recommend a change of scenery for the witch or wizard in question. Maple wands thrive on travel and challenge. Should this information not suffice, might I suggest A Translation of the Latin book of Wandlore by I. Terpres. It is a most helpful text on the qualities of wands.

I hope that the above has been helpful to you.

Yours,

G. Ollivander

Hermione huffed, seemingly frustrated with some problem she was pondering. Harry contemplated asking what was bothering her until he saw her sneak a glance behind her hair towards the other end of the Great Hall. He followed her gaze across the students tucking into their lunch. He didn't have to wait long to figure out what she was looking at. That very moment, Malfoy looked up and their eyes locked. Harry sensed, rather than heard, her breath hitch in her throat.

The slimy git. If he has hurt her, I'll…

He watched as she smiled ever so slightly. Ok, so that is weird.

Harry watched as Malfoy smiled back. He looked back at Hermione and watched in horror as she blushed and had the same sappy expression she used to have for Ron.

Aw, crap. This is not gonna go well…

He looked back at Malfoy, feeling a bit like he was watching a tennis match. This time, Malfoy noticed him. His expression hardened to a sneer. Hermione perceived this change and turned to see what it was that had so changed his mood. She sighed deeply.

"Harry, can we talk?"

"Sure," he replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not here, obviously." She stood and nudged him. "Come on."

They walked in silence until they reached a quiet corridor.

"So is this where you tell me it's not what it looks like?"

"No, it's exactly what it looks like."

Harry's mind went blank. He had spent the walk working up the energy for an argument to counter her denials. He certainly hadn't expected her to be blunt about it.

"And you have no right to say anything about it. I know you trust me. I need you to trust my judgement on this."

"I do. It's a little hard to swallow though, you and Malfoy."

"I get that, Harry. I really do. But you'll have to get over it." She ran her fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face. "I don't know how to explain it. It feels right, Harry. And I'm not going to wait around for Ron to finally pull his head out of his arse. I've moved on."

Harry groaned. "Ugh, Ron is going to be fucking terrible when he finds out about this."

"Most likely," she agreed grimly. "But until then, I'm not going to worry about it. I've spent enough time thinking about him."

"Is he- I mean, is he nice to you? Malfoy?"

Hermione laughed. "Of course he is, Harry. Why else would we be, well, whatever it is we are?"

"He hasn't declared himself yet then?"

"Well, no. We've not really talked about it at all. We only kissed for the first time last night." She blushed. "Too much information?"

He sighed. He looked at her more closely. She had some colour to her skin, and her eyes had a sparkle in them again, something he hadn't seen for several months. He thought it was fairly obvious, but he asked her anyway. "Are you happy?"

She smiled, wryly. "For now, yes."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Hello all! Some of you have noticed that ch11 was accidentally posted twice. Thanks so much for bringing this to my attention. Major fail on my part. Can I blame the fact that its the last week of school and my students are driving me crazy?**

* * *

Draco watched as Hermione and Potter left the Great Hall. He tightly curled his fists, resisting the urge to run after them. He knew that Potter had spotted the looks between them, and his curiosity demanded that he go to find out what Potter had to say about the situation.

Draco took a deep breath and reached for his pumpkin juice. He had intended to only take a sip but ended up finishing it. He picked up his cutlery, eager to distract himself from the tugging sensation pulling him out of the hall. He poked at his lunch, moving his sausages and eggs around his plate, before realising his appetite had completely evaporated.

Nope, I need to check on know what is happening. I can't leave it.

As he stood up, Theo asked, "Where are you going?"

Before he could think of an answer, Blaise nudged him and nodded to the other side of the hall. Theo quickly scanned the crowd and then smiled. "Ah, never mind!"

Draco rolled his eyes, deciding that he didn't have the time to engage in their nonsense. He managed to get out of the hall without running, but as soon as he was through the door, he realised he had no idea where to look. It was raining outside, so they wouldn't have gone to the courtyard. Which corridor should he take then? With a mental shrug, he chose one and ran up the staircase which would eventually lead to the Gryffindor common room.

He slowed his steps when he heard voices. He peered around the corner and saw Hermione, with her back to him, and Potter.

"Is he—I mean, is he nice to you? Malfoy?"

He heard Hermione laugh. "Of course he is, Harry. Why else would we be, well, whatever it is we are?"

He relaxed his muscles. It sounded like Potter wasn't going to lose his famous temper after all.

"He hasn't declared his intentions yet then?"

"Well, no. We've not really talked about it at all. We only kissed for the first time last night." Potter gagged ever so quietly. "Too much information?"

Draco certainly thought so. Why was it any of his business? There was a pause, and Draco held his breath.

"Are you happy?" A very good question. Was she?

"For now, yes."

Warmth settled in his abdomen. Draco wondered if he had ever made someone happy before. He had made his parents proud, sure. Happiness was not a priority for the Malfoys though.

Buoyed by the knowledge that his existence was, at least for one person, a positive thing, Draco walked around the corner. Potter looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. Hermione noticed the shift in attention and turned. Her hand shot to the base of her neck, her fingers worrying her collar as she glanced between him and Potter.

"Malfoy," said Potter. "What are you doing here?"

Draco smirked as he walked closer. "It seemed like the conversation was going to be less than friendly, and I wanted to make sure you didn't say anything stupid to hurt Hermione's feelings."

Potter blinked stupidly. "What?"

Draco waited to answer until he had walked behind Hermione and snaked his arms around her. He squeezed her gently. She turned her head and looked up at him quizzically.

"You have a big mouth, Potter, and a short temper. I'm here to make sure Hermione is okay."

Hermione bit her lip and turned back to Potter, leaning ever so slightly into him. His heart vaulted in his chest, even as a deep sense of calm swept over him.

"You're here to protect Hermione from me?"

Draco exhaled. Hermione elbowed him before he could make a witty comeback referencing the lack of intelligence Potter was displaying. Instead, he settled for a simple, "Yes."

Potter looked at him, while the moment stretched and the awkwardness grew. Draco refused to blink or shift his weight.

"I supposed you aren't the same slimy git we all thought you were." Hermione made to interrupt him, but he raised his hand to stop her. "If Hermione is willing to think you are a changed person, I trust her." Potter held out his hand to shake Draco's. "I'm Harry."

Hermione had gone perfectly still in Draco's arms. He could feel her anxiety seeping into his chest.

What a grossly typical Gryffindor move. How could I possibly tell Potter to piss off without upsetting Hermione?

He slowly unwrapped his arm from around her waist and moved so she was pressed against his side, hating the chill on his skin away from her warmth. He grasped Potter's hand in a firm grip and shook it.

"Draco."

He resisted the urge to wipe his hand on his trousers. It took less effort than he would have thought.

* * *

Hermione smiled and tried to pull away from Draco. He refused to let her go and held on even tighter. She gave him a playful pinch, and succeeded in extracting herself from his embrace.

"Since you're both here, I thought I'd tell you what I've found out from Ollivander."

"Why have you been speaking to Ollivander?" Harry asked.

Draco answered with a smug expression on his face, "Because Hermione has a great theory regarding…" He stopped and gave her a questioning look.

"I told him. We need him," she told him gently.

Draco grunted before continuing, "Hermione has a theory about how to fix the vanishing cabinet. We believe that the cabinet itself is magical, made from magical constituent parts, and not just spelled to perform tasks."

"You think its made from wand wood?" Harry asked her.

"That's the working theory. We think we know what wood it is, and I owled Ollivander for more information on Maple wood. But he just directed me to the book I was already reading."

"So what are you going to do?"

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm still waiting to hear from Borgin regarding the other cabinet. But if Hermione's theory about wand woods is correct and the cabinet is indeed made from maple, we should use modified wand treatments to fix the cabinet."

"It does all depend on what Borgin has to say," Hermione said. She shrugged her shoulders. "We'll just have to wait and see."

"What about the other stuff you're working on?" Harry asked.

"What other stuff?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.

"He means the tutoring," Draco sneered. "Though, if he'd been paying attention, he would have realised that I am wiping the floor with him in the classroom once more."

"I couldn't care less about your studies, Malfoy," said Harry. "I'm asking about your Defense practice."

"What about it?" Draco took a step away from her and crossed his arms.

"We've had a go at some spells that might come in handy," she said quickly. "We've managed to get through all the ones you did for the Triwizard Tournament. Plus a few others I think you'd like."

"That's great, Hermione, if we only had to fight against wizards."

"Most of these spells would work against magical creatures too," she said, frowning slightly at the way Draco had started shifting ever so slightly.

"I can't conjure a Patronus," he replied.

"Oh!" said Hermione, raising her hand to her mouth. "I completely forgot about that one."

"Don't bother. We'll just have to hope that we don't come across any Dementors."

"But if we do—"

"If we do, let us hope that Harry Potter and his Wonder Patronus will be there to help us."

Silence fell, the mood cooling rapidly. She rubbed her arms. She kept her eyes on the floor, observing the lines in the stone of varying tones of grey and terracotta.

"Right," she said, squaring her shoulders. "Come with me."

"Where?" Harry and Draco asked simultaneously, prompting them to glare/at each other.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not you, Harry. I'm sure even you see that you wouldn't be helpful right now."

She spotted Draco giving Harry a taunting grin, one eyebrow raised. She swiftly elbowed him in his side. "There'll be none of that."

He raised his arm in surrender. "Alright, fine. I've already experienced your violence before. No need for an encore."

She turned to Harry and said, "I'll see you later." She grabbed Draco's left arm and dragged him from the corridor up to the seventh floor.

As they reached the blank wall where the door to the Room of Requirement would appear, she turned to face him and said, "Why do you think that-" She noticed his face was twisted into a grimace of pain.

She let go immediately. "Draco, what's wrong? Did something—"

"It's fine," he said, rubbing his forearm where she had been holding on tightly. "You have a tight grip for such a small person." He attempted a grin, but she could tell it wasn't genuine. "You cut off the blood supply to my hand, is all." The door appeared, and he gestured towards it. "Shall we?"

Hermione walked inside, biting her lip. Did she really hold him that hard? No, she didn't think she had. In fact, she mostly held onto his sleeve.

"Let me see."

Draco's eyes widened. "No, I don't think that is necessary. See?" He wiggled his fingers at her. "Back to normal already."

She narrowed her eyes at him and held out her hand, waiting. Draco stared back at her in silence. Slowly, his feigned smile fell. He walked towards her, undoing the buttons on his left sleeve. He reached her just as he peeled back the sleeve from his arm, which hovered over her still outstretched hand. She held his wrist gently and looked at him. His entire body was turned away from her, though he watched her carefully.

His eyes were swirling thunderclouds, the emotions within alternating between desperation and self-hatred.

She lifted her free hand and began to trace the lines of angry black ink. He flinched.

"This isn't who you are."

"Yes, it is. And you'd do well to remember it."

She shook her head and laid her hand flat against it. "No."

"I'm not a good person. I've done terrible things, Hermione. I've hurt people."

"I know."

He looked up at her sharply, a question visible in his turbulent eyes.

"Katie Bell. I know it was you."

Draco squirmed in her hold. "Can we not talk about this please?"

She sighed and let go of his arm. "Fine, we'll agree to disagree. But this isn't the end of the discussion."

As her hands fell, Draco's fingers intertwined with hers. "You forgive too easily, Hermione."

She snorted. "I don't think you know me very well yet, Draco. I've done some pretty nasty stuff myself. Have you ever permanently disfigured someone/? Or kept someone captive in a jar for several months? "

"Wait, a jar? How did—" Draco's eyes widened. "That's where Skeeter disappeared to."

"I just do what I need to do to protect my friends."

"I can relate to the sentiment," he said. "In fact, I find it makes you all the more attractive. Even, dare I say it—" he paused, a glint in his eye and an eyebrow raised, "sexy." He dragged out the word, emphasising the 's' softly as he stared at her.

She squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. She looked at where they were joined. He was rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back on her hand, seemingly unaware that he was doing so.

"Even I never went so far as to trap a woman in a jar. Did you remember to leave air holes in the lid?"

"Of course I did!" she huffed. She's alive, isn't she?

He tugged on her arm, bringing her flush against his chest. His arm snaked around her and held her firmly. "I'd like to amend my previous request," he said.

She gave him a questioning look."Let's not talk at all." He leaned in and pressed his lips softly to hers.


End file.
